Mad Love Series, Part IV: Set Fire to the Rain
by KELZTASTiC
Summary: Harley and the Joker are back in action, and supposedly their life together has gotten better. Yet Harley still can't forget about some things in her past...continuation from "Inside the Fire"
1. Set Fire to the Rain

**A/N: Ok so note I changed the title. Wanted to stick to the fire theme. Keep up in faithful readers!  
**

**Mad Love Series, Part IV: Set Fire to the Rain**

Chapter 1: Set Fire to the Rain

_But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew_

_All the things you'd say, they were never true, never true_

_And the games you play, you would always win, always win_

_But I set fire to the rain, watched it pour as I touched your face_

_Well it burned while I cried 'cause I heard it screaming out your name_

"_Set Fire to the Rain," Adele _

"Are you ready?"

"I was born ready."

"That's really cliché, Harley."

"Stop ruining my fucking moment, Mr. J."

"I give up with you. Let's just go." He rolled his eyes, stepping out of our car.

"What do I do wrong? I don't get it." I whined, following him onto the sidewalk. The leather of my jester costume squished loudly as I strode in front of him, "You're always telling me that I'm such a fuck-up. Every single time we go out together. It's rather annoying."

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a fuck-up, I wouldn't have to tell you that you are one." He retorted snidely, pushing me aside. His eyes were not cruel as he said these things to me, but I knew from experience that if it was between making cracks about me and eating, let's say he'd let himself starve.

At this particular moment, the two of us were outside a seemingly abandoned apartment building in the heart of Gotham. It was 3 AM, dark and pretty frightening to those not used to being out this late in a dangerous city. I never worried much, because the Joker would kick anyone's ass to the curb if they so much as looked at me the wrong way. A small comfort in an otherwise…well, let's be frank, really shitty situation.

It had been 6 months since I had left Bruce at the altar and chosen this life on the run. I can't say I didn't regret it from time to time, but I had no choice in the matter. The Joker and Bruce would still be locked in a battle of the heart if I had chosen to stay with Bruce, or one of them could be dead. Call me sentimental, but I really would prefer if no one else died because of me.

This apartment building that we were steadily approaching was our current hideout. Every couple weeks we had to move the business elsewhere, considering we had the Batman and every single working cop in Gotham on our tail. And the Joker didn't do much to throw them off the scent. We had already successfully endeavored to rob 5 banks, bribe some politicians and mob bosses, and finally, quite a few cases of general debauchery.

I had more than a few times suggested the use of my penthouse suite, but the Joker kept turning it down, calling it a ridiculous idea and a waste of my intelligence to even come up with such a plan. I guess that meant he didn't want to try it.

We entered the building, and I wiped my boots on the rug in the entryway. It had rained earlier today and my boots were all full of mud. The Joker had some sort of strange germ phobic nature, and I was not excluded from complying with his rules.

"You might want to take this off and just wash them." He suggested, eyeing the traces of mud I was leaving on the floor on the way to the elevator.

I resisted the urge to chuck the offending boot at his face, and followed him into the elevator.

It was an old, rickety thing, and scared the mortal living shit out of me every time we used it. I clung to the railing on the side of it. The interior of the elevator had, at one time, been very fine and well-decorated; now the wallpaper was peeling and the floor was covered in grime. It made me cringe that my feet (thankfully swathed in pantyhose) were touching it.

"You are such a spaz, Harley. Calm down." He smiled.

I glared at him, "This thing is going to take my life someday."

"I highly doubt that."

"I will laugh at you when it happens."

"How are you going to laugh when you're dead?"

I mulled over this for a second, "I will haunt you from the grave and laugh in your dreams."

"I could see you doing that." He conceded.

"Ha! I win."

"You never win. That's the point of this relationship."

"I disagree. This is not a relationship."

"Then what is it?" he inquired curiously.

"It is a very, very complicated partnership." I replied.

"And because we sleep in the same bed…"

"Purely a coincidence," I sniffed airily.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped into the apartment that we shared. I dropped my boots on the floor, and flopped on the couch, "I'm becoming nocturnal."

"I've always been nocturnal." He shrugged, and crossed the room into the kitchen, "What would you like?"

"Wine, please." I groaned, rubbing my feet, "These boots really, REALLY suck."

He poured us 2 glasses and came back into the living room, "I'm sorry." He handed me my glass.

"Eh, it's not a big deal." I sighed, sipping it. My mouth curled up, "Um…did you seriously buy a box of wine again? You know it's not quality."

"What do you expect me to buy on my budget?"

"I expect you to use my bank account like I told you to." I retorted.

"I can't keep asking Jerry to take money out of your bank account. The bank is going to get suspicious."

Jerry was one of the Joker's associates who worked in the bank in which I had my trust fund. He made withdrawals whenever we needed them. We thought this was a good idea at the time, but we didn't take into account the fact that I am a spending machine. I had grown up with the reality that whenever I wanted something, I just bought it. The idea that money was actually a matter of concern was, to put it bluntly, fucking annoying.

"Oh, fine." I pouted, "You could still buy better wine."

"You're an alcoholic."

"Bitch," I downed my glass of wine, and set it down on the table.

…

The next day, I had to go into the city. The Joker was not interested in the outside world at all; I actually pointed out that if he didn't wear his make-up, people wouldn't probably have a clue who he was, but he didn't seem to think that I was being logical.

Whatever. I needed human contact other than him anyway.

I got off the bus (ugh, I know, the _bus_) right in the heart of the business district. I always enjoyed looking up at the skyscrapers and feeling like I was a little kid again, walking with my parents during Christmastime, the snowflakes lightly twirling around our heads. I felt so small next to the buildings. I looked at my reflection in the glass of the doors, realizing that those days were long over. I wondered if that 5-year-old version of me would have ever imagined the life she was going to lead. Hell, I don't think even me 2 years ago would have ever imagined it.

I passed a very familiar building on the corner, and also saw a very familiar person pushing through the crowd to get the building. Bruce Wayne.

I had to stop and watch him for just a moment. I was disguised, of course; I was wearing a large, floppy beret-style hat and big, dark-tinted sunglasses. Since it was rather cold (being late November), I had my Burberry scarf wrapped around my face. To everyone around me, I just looked like an Upper East Side woman. I figured Bruce wouldn't recognize me.

As he began to open the door, he glanced behind him, and looked straight at me. Ok, so a hat and sunglasses was a rather thinly veiled disguise. His eyes were so sad, it nearly broke my heart.

I raised my arm, boldly giving him a wave. He just turned around and quickly went inside. Was it really going to be like this forever? I suppose I didn't blame him. I was the one who left him at the altar.

I took out my phone, and went into my contacts. I clicked on Bruce's number and texted him, 'I miss you, Bruce.'

I began to walk away, remembering what I was doing in this part of town in the first place. I went into a pharmacy, buying a few grocery items and some beauty supplies for myself. I approached the counter, and paid for the items with cash. That's all I could do these days, considering I was a wanted felon and they were tracking my bank account and credit cards. Thankfully, the clerk seemed too preoccupied by the fact that he was being paid minimum-wage in a dead-end job to bother identifying me.

The clerk handed me my bag; I thanked him and left. As I got onto the public bus going in the direction of our hideout, my phone vibrated in my purse. I pulled it out. It was a text from Bruce.

'I miss you, too.'

I immediately felt a pang of guilt for even instigating this conversation in the first place, and consequently decided not to text him back. But at least I knew that he wasn't completely shutting me out of his life.

I got off the bus a block from our apartment building, and once again, stepped into the unsteady elevator, clinging to the metal railing for dear life and fervently wondering over and over again why we had chosen this building.

The doors opened on our floor, and I took out my key. I turned the key in the lock, struggling a little with all my bags. He was in the living room, reading the Gotham Times. He looked up as I walked in, "Oh, good, you're back. Did you buy Cheeto's?"

"Yeah, I bought your god damn Cheeto's." I rolled my eyes, throwing the bag to him.

He ripped it open, throwing a few in his mouth, "Oh, sweet salvation. I was craving."

He wasn't wearing his make-up today, which meant that he wasn't planning on leaving the apartment anytime soon. I had to smile at his enthusiasm for junk food.

I sat down next to him, "What's on TV?"

He glanced up at the blank television set; we couldn't buy cable because we couldn't have anything registered to our names, "I like to pretend its Grey's Anatomy."

"You're such a woman." I laughed, grabbing a Cheeto from the bag.

"It's a legitimate medical show."

"Yeah, and so is Scrubs." I rolled my eyes.

"That show isn't even that funny." He remarked.

"How do you even have the time to watch television? I would have never pegged you for the TV-junkie type." I settled back into the couch, getting comfortable.

"I had a computer." He said matter-of-factly.

"That works too, I guess." I shrugged. I stood up, heading to the bathroom. My iPhone buzzed in my pocket, and I quickly took it out, not wanting the Joker to hear that I was receiving any calls or texts. The text was from Bruce again.

'Are you free tonight?'

I closed the bathroom door, locking it. I stared at my phone for what felt like a long time, contemplating my answer. I bit my lip. I ran through the scenarios in my head. No doubt the Joker had me followed; it was just a little less now than when I wasn't with him. I couldn't exactly sneak out; he was the lightest sleeper alive. I could tell him I was meeting Pamela…she and I had sort of forgotten any of the drama that we had before. I hung out with her once in a while, pretty late at night, and went to places that were really crowded, like clubs, because people wouldn't bother to stop and recognize us.

Did I want to betray the Joker's somewhat regained trust in me by going out with Bruce? Did I really want to ruin everything I worked so hard for?

'Yes. What did you have in mind?'

I guess I'm a sucker for punishment.


	2. Broken Lover

**A/N: Sorry for the little hiatus; college consumes my life and I had a bit of writer's block. Enjoy!**

**I don't own these characters.**

Chapter 2: Broken Lover

_Broken lover, yes I made you_

_Believe that I would be the one to heal you_

_And if you go now, out that doorway_

_I won't say you're wrong_

_But you know that I'll worry about you_

"_Worry About You," 2AM Club _

Bruce and I agreed to meet outside the newly renovated Wayne Manor. He had since added a greenhouse and gardens to his vast complex, as I could see when I pulled up in the car that the Joker and I shared, a beat-up Chevy of undetermined age or origins. All I know is that the Joker hijacked it, and somehow got someone to make copies of the keys. I felt sort of bad for whoever he stole it from; although, on the other hand, I'm pretty sure they were happy to be rid of it and collect on the insurance. It was, let's be honest, a piece of shit.

How come everything in my life has gone from luxury to literally falling apart?

Whatever. I had to deal with it.

I parked in the side garage (not the main one, because that's where Bruce kept his Lamborghini and his Maserati. Damn, I missed riding around in those things.

I called Bruce, let it ring once, and hung up. It was the prearranged signal. I then went into my phone and deleted the history of our phone calls and texts. No evidence, no Harley getting in trouble. Referring to myself in the third person is a little creepy, I apologize.

I stood in the garage, waiting for Bruce. It was a bit eerie, being there at night like this. It made me feel kind of like an intruder…even though I basically used to call this place home.

Bruce finally emerged at the front of the garage; he was just wearing a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, which, by the way, was even better than seeing him in a suit. In my head (or at least, I really fucking hoped it was in my head), I released a dreamy sigh. Stupid hormones.

I glanced up at him as he approached me, "Hi."

"Hi," he replied somewhat awkwardly.

"How are you?" I asked, "The renovations look great. They're coming along nicely."

"Yeah, I hired a real quality landscaper." He agreed.

A short silence passed between us; it was amazing how in just 6 months, you don't even know where to begin or what to talk about anymore.

"Want to take a walk?" I suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." He gestured for me to follow him.

He led me to the entrance of the gardens, and unlocked the wrought-iron gate with one of the countless keys he owned. He closed and locked it as I brushed past him.

"Well…" he spread his arms wide, "This is my new place of solitude."

It was quite beautiful, I had to admit. You could see everything in the gardens, even at night; Bruce had set up Victorian-age-looking streetlamps along the cobblestone path, and it bathed the area in a soft, warm glow. He had every type of flower known to man there; I couldn't even name some of the ones that I saw as we walked.

"It's amazing, really." I said breathlessly, "I wish you had installed this when we were…"

Bruce looked at me expectantly.

"Never mind," I said quickly, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Harley." He gave me a half-smile. I felt a tug at my heart, remembering how much I had loved that smile.

"Still, I feel like I have to, I guess." I stumbled over my words, not knowing what to say.

"Please try to feel comfortable with me. I am the one who instigated us meeting, after all." he said.

We approached a bench along the path, and Bruce asked, "Would you like to sit and talk?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I tried to be nonchalant, but my heart was racing for I wasn't really sure what reason. We were just friends now; catching up, chatting…right?

He sat down first, and I followed suit.

He slung his arm around the back of the bench; a few inches from my shoulders. I shifted uncomfortably, "So…"

"So…?"

"How have you been, Bruce? I've tried to follow you on the news when I can, but all I've heard about was the renovations to Wayne Manor. How has work been?"

"Work is work, you know? It's been hard, going back and forth between being Bruce Wayne and Batman. It's tiring. I'm actually considering taking some time off from work, letting Lucius handle things for a while. I'm always going to have time to be Bruce Wayne, but my time as Batman is going to be limited." He admitted, "I am getting older, and I don't know how much I'm going to be able to do anymore."

"That seems like a good idea." I nodded, "Have you given any thought to who might replace you as Batman?"

"To be honest, I haven't really considered it. I'm sure someone else is out there, coming up with their vigilante identity, ready to pounce when I can't do something. There's got to be someone else in the world that cares about the state of our city as much as I do." Bruce said wistfully.

"I think there is." I said.

He smiled at me, a real smile this time, "I'm glad you think that, but doesn't that kind of interfere with what you and the Joker do? I can't help but notice that the two of you have been rather busy lately."

I flushed slightly, "You know me, Bruce. I'm not exactly evil, and I've come to find that neither is the Joker."

"I find that hard to believe." He snorted derisively.

"If you spend time with him, he's almost as human as you and me." I said defensively.

"Oh, I'm not trying to argue with you, Harley. I just know what I've seen, and he can't be completely evil if he has feelings for you…how is that whole…thing going?" I could tell it really pained Bruce to even ask that question.

"Um, it's fine. It gets stressful at times, but we have our good moments, too. You know, actually, the other day we –"

"I still love you." Bruce blurted out.

Well, that stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn't even know how to respond to that. I guess, in a way, I was expecting it, but on the other hand…what the fuck?

"Bruce, I…" I began.

"I don't care if you don't love me anymore. I just had to tell you. I still think about you every day, Harley. I still wish I could wake up next to you, watch you lightly breathe as you sleep, share your laughter, see your smile, touch you…God, it's been unbearable." He put his face in his hands, "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too." I said, touching his hand.

I shouldn't have done that. Terrible idea, that physical contact.

He sat up, and pulled me to him, kissing me gently. I…I didn't even try to break away from it. I couldn't deny that all my feelings were still there for him; they were just being forced into my subconscious while I hoped never to feel them again. Obviously, that wasn't going to work forever.

We pulled away, searching each other's eyes for some kind of explanation, some kind of reason that we put ourselves in this situation.

I couldn't think of any off-hand.

"We…uh…we should not have done that." I stood up, and began to pace, "I really, really should have not done that."

"You sure acted like we should have done that." Bruce pointed out.

"Shut up!" I snapped, "This is not good. This is awful. This is catastrophic, even!"

"What, was it that bad?" Bruce asked reproachfully.

"No, you moron, the Joker has me followed everywhere I go! I'm already going to be in deep shit when he finds out that I came here, let alone that I actually went into your gardens!" I leaned against the iron grating across from the bench that separated the greenhouse and the garden.

"Oh come on, Harley, he's not that ridiculous." Bruce said, standing up, "Or…well…is he?"

"Thanks for that, Bruce, scaring me even more than I already am." I bit my nails, a stupid nervous habit that I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried, "When he finds out…"

"He won't." Bruce assured me.

"Oh, you don't know him as well as you think you do, then." I snapped, "This is bad, this is really bad. He forgave me once for leaving him for you. I can't let it happen again."

"But…I still love you." He embraced me.

I pushed him away, "You don't understand! This isn't going to work! It won't be the same as it was before. We aren't free."

"We never were." He said bitterly.

"I guess you're right about that." I sighed, letting myself be enveloped by his arms once again, "God, I am so stupid."

"No, you're not."

"I am really fucking stupid for even coming here." I sobbed into his shoulder, "I am going to catch all kinds of fucking hell for this."

"I don't regret it. I wanted to see you again." He said soothingly, stroking my back, "I've missed you so much I couldn't even stand it."

"Me, too, Bruce, but I…I don't know how I can even justify this to myself, let alone to him." I protested, "I just don't even know why I did this."

"Because you still care about me." He said matter-of-factly.

He's always right. Damn him.

"Ok, so I may still care about you, but…but…that's not the point!" I exclaimed, "My point is that it doesn't seem to bother you that we're reigniting these feelings and giving each other false hope for a future we'll never have!"

"Well, that sounded nice and rehearsed." He laughed, squeezing me tighter, "Harley, can't you just pretend for a minute that you still love me, and that everything will be alright?"

"I can't live in that fantasy world anymore. I don't know why I keep lapsing back into these feelings over and over again. I promised myself I wouldn't, and yet here I go again. I'm such an idiot!" I made some sort of indiscriminate noise that was a mixture of frustration and pain into Bruce's chest, and then began sobbing.

This was just not a good day for me.

Bruce and I just stood there for a long time; I didn't know exactly how long, but I knew I had to break away before I got into even deeper shit.

"Bruce, I can't…" I pushed him away gently, "I can't be with you anymore. I'm sorry that I came here and led you on like this. It was downright fucking shitty of me to do this; I will be the first to admit that. I miss you, but I am done with this relationship forever, I think."

"Is that what you really want?" he asked. What scared me was that there was no emotion in his voice; his eyes just stared me down, void of any remorse, disappointment, anger…anything.

"Yes." I said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Ok, well…then just go home." Bruce said. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Alright," I turned and ran. I couldn't let him see how upset I was. I knew I shouldn't have come here. I knew I shouldn't have instigated this. It was horrible idea, and I knew, I just knew I was going to regret it when it came to fruition. I hated myself for hurting Bruce so badly. He was just trying to love me, to be a good guy, to be there for me when I needed him, and all I did was stomp all over his feelings and leave him like fucking road kill.

I realize that that was a god-awful analogy. My mind is not exactly sane when I am experiencing 1800 different emotions at once. Don't you love how we women get stuck with that burden?

I got back in my car, driving away from Wayne Manor as fast as I could. I turned up the stereo really loud so that I couldn't hear myself crying. I finally got back to me and the Joker's apartment, and parked. I sat there for a while, just trying to calm down, to look like I hadn't been crying. Unfortunately, I had so many tell-tale signs of that. I have what is known as "the ugly cry". My eyes were puffy, bloodshot and watery, my nose was red…basically I was a hot-ass mess.

I knew I was just going to have to tell some elaborate lie to get myself out of this one.

I somberly stepped onto the elevator, not even bothering to hang on. I didn't even notice the shaking and groaning tonight.

The elevator doors opened, and I fumbled for my keys. I looked up as the door opened in front of me. The Joker was standing there, looking rather frazzled. His face sagged a little with relief as he saw me, and his mouth broke into a bit of a smile. This was unexpected.

"It's 3 in the morning, and you took the car." He said, "Where did you go?"

"Out with Pam," I replied, pushing past him.

"Well, you don't need to get huffy about it." He closed the door behind me. He stared at me for a moment, looking very puzzled, "You're angry and upset. Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"Pam and I had a fight."

"Ah, I see." He said sagely, sitting down next to me, "You don't have to be friends with her, you know. No one's forcing you."

"It's not that. I just care about…Pam…a lot, and I don't want to lose her, but she just fucking aggravates me to no end sometimes." I exhaled deeply, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"You don't need to. It's not really any of my business anyway." He shrugged, standing up, "Want a glass of wine to calm you down? You seem really shaken up."

"Yeah, that would be nice." I admitted.

I watched him go into the kitchen. I noticed that he was wearing his make-up less and less around me; it was a sign of trust, and I fucked all of that up royally. I had to wonder why he was being so nice to me right now. Did he know? Was this just a crazy sick game he was playing? I never knew with him. He was an enigma, no matter how much time I spent with him. I mean, I didn't even know the man's real name for God's sake.

He presented the glass to me, "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, sipping it. He sat back down again, and I leaned into his shoulder, "Did you have a good night? You seem really calm."

"I guess I did." He said with a half-smile, "I found out something interesting today, something that I don't know how to feel about, but I think I've figured out what to do about it."

"Oh, really?" my heart was racing so hard in my chest; I swear he had to have heard it, "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing important, babe, don't worry." He kissed the top of my head, "I'm going to bed. Are you going to join me in a couple of minutes?"

"Yeah, I will. I just need some alone time first."

"I understand." He got up, and headed into our bedroom.

As soon as I heard the door slam, my body shook uncontrollably. What was going to happen to me?


	3. The Upper Hand

**A/N: Sorry for the long absence. I had massive writer's block, but I'm getting back on track! Hope you enjoy! Reviews! **

Chapter 3: The Upper Hand

_Baby I was naïve,_

_Got lost in your eyes and never really had a chance_

_My mistake, I didn't know how to be in love_

_You had to fight to have the upper hand_

"_White Horse," Taylor Swift _

The next few days went by virtually without a hitch. The Joker seemed calm and collected, as always, and my anxiety grew more and more by the minute. Maybe I was over-reacting, maybe I was just being paranoid…but I couldn't put anything past him. He was known for being a very convincing actor. He could pretend he was fine and emotionally stable with the best of them. In fact, he really could have made a good woman with that personality.

As he left that evening, I paced the apartment. I tried to figure out what he could possibly be doing. He said he was just going to talk to some of his "associates" on the lower east side of Gotham. It was a pretty scummy area, and I did worry about him. But then again…I think there are more people in Gotham who are scared of him than those who aren't. So, maybe I didn't exactly need to worry too much.

I sat down to read a magazine, couldn't focus, and then picked up a Sudoku book the Joker had managed to get away with from the corner store. I was more than a little addicted to it. I managed to get my mind off of the whole situation with the two men in my life when there was a frantic knocking on my door. I jumped up, nervous. No one ever came to our apartment and knocked, except for Pam.

I padded quietly across the carpet to the door. The knocking continued, and a familiar voice shouted, "Harley? Are you home? It's important!"

I breathed a sigh of relief, and opened the door, "Oh hi, P-"

"Harley! Have you heard the news?" Pam exclaimed as she barreled past me.

"What? What's going on?"

"Don't you watch the news?"

"We don't have cable." I gestured to the broken television.

"Oh, God, I keep forgetting." She collapsed onto the couch. She looked frazzled; her auburn hair was in disarray and she raked her fingers through it, making it even more tousled. I could tell she ran over here in a hurry because she didn't even have any make-up on, and only was wearing a worn emerald green Harvard sweatshirt and her oldest, most ripped-up jeans. It was very rare to see her dressed down for anything.

"Pam, what is going on?" I was getting extremely nervous now, "Did something happen to the Joker?"

"Oh no, no, he's fine." She shook her head, and looked up at me, eyes sad, "You'd better sit down for this, sweetie."

I sank down onto the couch. Someone was dead or very critically injured. I could tell by the tone of her voice. I didn't really know who, considering my immediate family was long gone.

"Harley…" she grasped my hands, "Bruce got shot."

My blood ran cold, "…what?"

"The news said he was walking out this evening to his car, and an unknown man came up and shot him in the chest." Pam was shaking her head in disbelief, "I can't believe he'd risk his life like that, considering who he is."

"Pam, nobody but me, you, his butler and…oh, God," my voice shook with sudden realization, "I knew it. I fucking knew it. I'm going to kill him!"

"Kill who?" Pam asked as I jumped up from the couch and began stalking toward the apartment door, "Where are you going?"

"I've got to go to the hospital and see Bruce. I need to know who did this, Pam, but I have a god damn good feeling about who did!" I grabbed my keys and Pam quickly followed me out the door.

…

Pam and I drove to Gotham General Hospital, and I instantly had flashbacks of when I visited him back then, before we were engaged and this whole business had never happened. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I wiped them away fiercely, not letting Pam see that I was crying. I knew she didn't care, but I hated when people see me vulnerable.

I parked the car, and sat there for a moment. Neither of us said anything.

"You'd better go in, Harley." Pam said gently, "I can wait here with the car."

"Thanks, Pam," I said, and got out, shivering in the December air, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Take your time." She assured me.

I broke the lock on the back entrance, cringing as I anticipated an alarm to go off…but it didn't. I remembered that Gotham General was still undergoing renovations after the Joker blew it up a couple years ago…that dumb-ass.

I quietly went through the back corridors and onto the back staircase. Since it was so late at night, there wasn't really anyone on duty. I heard a few people on the floors below me scurrying around, but no one on Bruce's floor. I peered out the window on the door, and saw no one. I looked at the whiteboard that contained the directory of the patients, and couldn't locate Bruce's name. Then I saw: Doe, John. GSW to the chest, Room 302. Oh, he didn't want anyone to know he was here.

My eyes went a little blurry at the sight of the initials "GSW"; I was just in disbelief. I didn't linger there, worrying I would be caught, and quickly located Bruce's room. I opened the door as silently as I possibly could, and closed it behind me. He was in the room alone, like before. He wasn't sleeping, surprisingly; he was just staring out the window at the light snow falling.

"I knew you would come." He said without looking at me. I jumped a little, startled.

"Why wouldn't I?" I said, approaching his bed.

He turned to face me, with a hint of a smile on his face, "This seems to be a sort of déjà-vu, huh?"

I chuckled a bit, "Yeah, it is."

He grabbed my hand, "Thank you for being here, Harley."

"Of course, Bruce," I said, kissing his hand gently.

"Won't your…the Joker be pissed off?" Bruce asked.

"Eh, whatever," I shrugged, "I'm sure he caused this anyway."

"Are you sure?" Bruce didn't sound angry or upset, just matter-of-fact.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"How did he find out about our…encounter?" Bruce tried to sit up, but his face crumpled up with pain, "Ah…fuck!"

"What? Are you ok?" I stood up, worried.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sit back down, Harley." He said reassuringly, "It's just the pain. It sucks."

"I can imagine." I said, feeling god-awful. I knew I had caused all of this, "I'm not really sure how he found out. He acted like everything was ok…but I shouldn't have trusted that game for a minute. He likes to have the upper hand in situations like this. I can't help but think he knew all along what was happening…I don't want to bring it up to him because I sort of fear for my life."

"Because you know he's my biggest fan," Bruce smiled.

"Oh, definitely," I said, cracking a little smile, "I can't stay too long; Pam is waiting for me outside."

"I thought you two had a falling out."

"It's complicated. She's the only person who keeps me from going utterly berserk these days." I said, rolling my eyes, "I think she's over the whole liking me business…at least, she says she is."

"That has to be somewhat awkward," Bruce pointed out.

"Yeah, just a little." I admitted, "But she's a good person despite that."

"I don't doubt it." Bruce nodded, "I was thinking, though…"

"Nothing good ever comes from thinking."

"Oh, shut up, Harley." He laughed, "I was thinking we should get out of here."

"The hospital? I don't think you're in any condition to…"

"I don't mean the hospital." He interjected in annoyance, "Will you let me finish what I'm trying to say? You always interrupt me."

"Sorry," I flushed, "Continue."

"I have a lot of money put away for retirement. I planned on bailing out of being the owner of Wayne Enterprises when I turned 40, but I think I could do it now. I have 30 million dollars in an off-shore bank account in Aruba, and I started transferring about a million dollars there every week since our…engagement." He looked a bit pained to say that, but shook it off, "But since we met up and we still have feelings for each other, we could get away. I'll arrange for some fake passports and driver's licenses and everything, Harley, you wouldn't have to worry about any of that."

As he kept rambling, I just stared at him in disbelief. This was a rather elaborate plan, considering we had broken up and weren't even technically back together. I hadn't even said that I still loved him, not like I did, anyway, right? Yeah, I'll just keep telling myself that.

"Bruce, I don't know…we were going to try that before, and fate intervened on that one." I said gently, "I have nothing really left here to worry about, and as long as you have money…God, I can't even believe I'm considering this, but…ok."

"Ok…what?" Bruce asked, puzzled.

"We'll do it." I said.

"Are you sure? I don't exactly trust you after you know…you ditched me on our wedding day." Bruce said, and he was serious; no mirth was in his eyes whatsoever, "I don't even know why I still love you after how complicated all this shit has been; I have to admit that, but I still think we have a chance."

"Me, too," I couldn't lie to myself about wanting to get away from everything. I had some reservations about it, considering every time I tried to ditch the Joker, he just came back stronger than ever. But Bruce had a plan, a pretty good plan.

"Ok, well, then you're agreeing to this." He said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. How soon can we leave?"

"I'd say about 6 months from now."

When he saw my face fall in disappointment, he explained, "I still have to sign over Wayne Enterprises to Lucius, and sell my house, my cars, all of that, Harley."

"I understand." I said, and I meant it. He was picking up his life, too, "But, Bruce…what are you going to do about the whole…Batman situation?" I lowered my voice at the last bit.

"I'm working on it." He said.

"Care to elaborate on that?" I asked.

"Not yet; that is up for grabs. I have to find a successor for that. I can't just leave this city to the scum of the earth like it was before. The cops can't handle it on their own. I know it's getting better, considering Gordon is in charge now, but I still don't trust the system enough to leave it alone."

"I don't blame you." He was right; Gotham was definitely on the mend, but with the kind like…you know, the guy I was living with…still running about, there was a long time before people could rest easy.

"Whatever; that's not the most important thing on my mind right now. I know that if I leave, someone will step up. I have enough faith in this city that that will happen." Bruce settled into his pillows, "You'd better get going before they come to check on me."

"Ok, yeah, I will do that." I said, standing up, "Call me if you need anything."

"Ok," he smiled up at me.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek, "Goodbye, Bruce, hopefully I can see you again soon."

"We'll stay in touch."

I walked away from the bed, and out the door. I checked the corridors; still no one. Jesus, they either really under-staffed this hospital or everyone was having sex like on Grey's Anatomy. I went down the back stairs and back out into the freezing parking lot. Pam was dozing off in the passenger seat.

I knocked on the window, and she jumped. Once she saw it was me, she unlocked the doors and I got back into the car.

"How did it go?" she asked, yawning.

"Fine, yeah, he's doing pretty well for having been shot." I said, and began to drive away and back toward my apartment. On second thought, "Hey, Pam, do you mind if I stay at your place for the night?"

"Sure," she said, shrugging, and then she looked at me with sudden realization, "Oh, Harley…you aren't back with Bruce, are you?"

"It's really complicated."

"Oh, Harley…"

"I hate when you say my name in that tone of voice." I pouted.

"You are getting yourself into a heap of trouble, missy." Pam said, shaking her head, "What if he finds out?"

"He's not going to." I shot her a look.

"Ah, I get your drift." Pam sighed, "I hope you know what you're doing, babe. Did you ever stop to think that the Joker really does care about you?"

"So you're taking his side in this?" I snapped.

"No," she said gently, "I'm just trying to keep things in perspective. Believe me, if I had a chance to abscond with some rich, handsome billionaire, I'd take it in a heartbeat, but…you're going to hurt someone in the process. The Joker is not an easy man to please; clearly, he cares deeply about you."

"Yeah, he does." I agreed, "But that's not enough, Pam. He can't provide me any sort of security the way Bruce does."

"I get that." She held up her hands in mock defeat, "I don't want to argue with you. I just want you to think about something before you do that. You're so impulsive, Harley."

I had never considered myself to be impulsive. I had made so many planned and careful decisions in my life before the Joker entered it; I just had never realized that I had changed so much in the past couple of years.

"I wish I wasn't." I said, staring hard at the road front of me, "I wish I had never even spoken to the Joker in the first place."

"You can't regret what's already been done."

"Since when have you gotten all philosophical?" I teased.

"Harley, I'm tired of this criminal life. I regret it, too, but irrevocable. I want nothing more than to take my millions and just disappear."

"Then why don't you?"

"I kind of like the criminal life." She grinned.

"You're a strange woman, Pamela."

…

I spent the night at Pam's, and kind of almost forgot about my problem: that the Joker was probably at home, waiting for me and ready to bitch me out or…you know…possibly kill me.

I quietly opened the door to our apartment, and closed it behind me, locking it. On second thought, I unlocked it. I might have to run for my life. I'm so smart.

I tip-toed throughout the apartment with bated breath; upon very close inspection, he was nowhere to be found. I exhaled with relief, and flopped onto the couch. I weighed my options. I could just leave now before he comes back, and stay at Pam's until Bruce got out of the hospital, or I could just stay here, fear for my life, and pretend like nothing was going on for 6 months. Either way, I was totally fucked.

Since I hadn't slept much the night before, I managed to doze off on the couch until I heard someone say, "Get the fuck up, Sleeping Beauty."

Shit.


	4. Always Find Something Wrong

**A/N: Sorry for the short hiatus. I was on winter break and needed some relaxation. However, I am back at school for my second semester of junior year! Scary! Hopefully updating will come quickly. Be patient with me. R&R!**

Chapter 4: Always Find Something Wrong

_See, I always find, and I always find_

_Yeah I always find something wrong_

_You been putting up with my shit just way too long_

_I'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most_

_So I think it's time for us to have a toast_

"_Runaway," Kanye West feat. Pusha T_

I opened my eyes slowly, glancing over. I saw the Joker standing in the middle of our living room, looking pretty haggard. His make-up was starting to come off, his eyes were bloodshot, and his mouth was set in a narrow line. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. I realized then that he must have been looking for me.

"Hey," I said, "When did you get back home?"

"Just now," he replied with gritted teeth, "Where the fuck have you been all night?"

"At Pam's," I said shortly, standing up, "Why the accusatory tone?"

"Well, as you know, your dearly beloved is recuperating in the hospital from a gunshot wound, and you know…I just figured you'd probably go visit him behind my back. I know you."

"I didn't go there." I said defensively, "Pam and I went out to eat, and then watched some movies at her place and it was really late so I slept over. Big fucking deal."

"Well, Harley, it's a big fucking deal when you don't call me all night. I tried your phone about 18 times and you didn't answer." He looked like he was about to blow, and I didn't really give a shit. I was just going to keep egging him on.

"My phone was off." I snapped, "And you know what? I really would have preferred not to answer the phone considering I'm FUCKING PISSED AT YOU!"

"What did I do?"

Well, that was it.

"Are you trying to fuck with me? You shot Bruce!" I exclaimed.

"No, I didn't."

"Don't you fucking lie to me! You did it! I know you did it! Who else would have been that god damn vengeful?" I was near the point of hysterics, "You almost killed him, and I know that was your intention! You want him out of your hair so that I stop talking to him! You've been faking like you didn't know that Bruce and I met up again and you wanted to get back at me for it, so YOU SHOT HIM! You're such a fucking ass-hole! I HATE YOU!" The tears were streaming down my face; he just stood there, looking undeniably dumbstruck by my outburst.

"Why are you standing there like an idiot? Just answer my question before I go insane!" I was sobbing now; I couldn't even understand myself when I was talking, "You just want to kill off everyone that I love so that I can be miserable for the rest of my miserable, stupid life!"

"I didn't shoot Bruce." He insisted, "And yeah, I'm kind of pissed off that you went to see him. I knew about that whole business, but I ignored it, considering you came home and looked like it wasn't successful. I thought you two had ended it for good, so I didn't interfere. I'm not that horrible of a person, Harley. I've hurt you enough."

I stared up at him, completely in disbelief. I had to be dreaming. This was all some kind of crazy dream or alternate universe.

"Who are you?" I demanded, "Who replaced your brain with some normal person's?"

"I don't want to lose you. If I killed Bruce, you would leave me. I'm not an idiot." He inspected his fingernails, "I thought you would have had more faith in me than that."

"How am I supposed to have faith in you when you fry my nerves to no end?" I collapsed onto the couch, "I'm going to need to be committed to a mental institution if we keep going on like this."

The Joker went on some spiel on how much he was disappointed in me, and that I needed to trust him more and blah, blah, blah. Meanwhile, I was thinking to myself. This whole situation could work to my advantage. He trusted me, and that was invaluable. I could keep him going for 6 months, pretend like everything was normal, keep seeing Bruce at a minimum…and when he was ready, we would fly to Aruba and relax on the beach for the rest of our God-given lives.

I smiled despite my tears, and the Joker stared at me, asking, "What's your problem?"

"Oh, nothing, just…I'm sorry for accusing you of trying to murder Bruce." I admitted, "I jumped to conclusions and I shouldn't have done that."

"Well, I'm still pissed at you, but I guess I'll live." He sat down on the couch next to me, "You need to calm down, Harley, or you're going to have a heart attack before the age of 30."

"I'm surprised I haven't by now." I said miserably, burying my face in my hands.

…

The next few days went by without a hitch, surprisingly enough. The Joker seemed to have turned over a new leaf; he was legitimately nice to me and was always asking me if I needed anything. It was super fucking weird.

I went out for coffee with Pam on a Thursday night, to this little 24-hour café a couple of blocks from our apartment. The people working there didn't ever really seem to care that we were both wanted felons, so we kept going back.

I sipped my caramel macchiato, sighing, "I feel bad, Pam."

"You don't need to feel bad, Harley. The Joker is a dick. I don't care what he says. I believe that he did not shoot Bruce himself, but he had to have arranged it. He's trying to bullshit you into believing him so that you'll pity him, and that you'll never leave him because you can't justify it." Pamela thrust her coffee cup at me passionately, a few drops of it spilling onto the table. She swore under her breath, and started cleaning it up with the napkins on the table.

"I can see it from that angle, too, but I just don't know. I think I'm overanalyzing it." I said, "I'm confused, to be honest."

"What is there to be confused about? The guy's a fucking liar!" Pamela exclaimed. After a few people in the café turned to look at her with puzzled eyes, she lowered her voice, "You can't trust this guy as far as you can throw him, Harley, and – no offense – that's not very far."

She ignored the fact that I rolled my eyes, and she continued, "I'm not going to say that I condone all this business between you and Bruce, but let me tell you something. You need to make up your mind, and fast. The Joker is going to know if you're not interested in him anymore."

"You're right about that," I admitted, "I have to give him credit. The Joker is anything but stupid. And I'm a really, really terrible actress."

Pamela chuckled, "That's for damn sure."

"I'm not asking you to agree with me." I pouted, "I just need some advice."

"Oh, calm down, prima donna," she grinned. She then grew somewhat serious, "My advice is that you and Bruce need to figure out what the two of you are doing first. Figure out whether this is worth it or not. Even though I think you owe it to the Joker to stay with him, and that Bruce is being a real idiot thinking that you were just going to pick up and leave…"

"Get to the point."

"My point is that you owe it to the Joker to make sure that this is what you really want. You chose him over Bruce on your wedding day. I don't think he's going to forget that. And maybe he is being nice to you because he wants to be nice to you. Did you ever think about that?" Pamela inquired.

I fell silent for a moment, and then said reluctantly, "Well…not really…"

"Exactly," she said, smug, "You need to consider all your options before you make a decision. You're so impulsive, Harley, you know that?"

"It's amazing to hear people say that I am impulsive." I said, shaking my head in amazement, "I'm sure that if you asked anyone I knew before the Joker how to describe me, that would be the very last thing they would consider."

Pamela smiled, "You've changed a lot in the past few years."

"Yeah, I have." I said wistfully, "I never thought that I would be turning 30 as an out-of-work runaway felon who is trying to balance two relationships."

"You make it sound so depressing."

"That's because it is." I said with a dead-pan expression.

"Ugh, we're both so old." Pamela groaned.

"Don't talk to me about it." I finished off my coffee, "Want to head home?"

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

We stood up, and tossed our cups in the garbage. We threw on our heavy winter coats, scarves, gloves, and hats. Believe me; December in New York is a total pain in the ass. We left into the bitter cold, shivering against the wind chill. Thankfully my apartment was not that far, so we cut down the little alley connecting the two main streets. Pamela and I were joking and laughing about something when suddenly, from behind a dumpster emerged a large, hulking man with a knife.

Pamela and I stopped immediately.

"Good evening, ladies." He smirked.

"Good evening, creep," Pamela said, "Want to get out of the way? We're going home."

She was afraid of nothing, that woman.

"Unfortunately, I can't do that." He replied.

"Why, is your leg broken?" Pamela quipped.

"No," he snapped, "I'm going to mug you two fine ladies."

As he started towards us, Pamela shook her head, making tut-tut sounds under her breath, "Now, you see, the only reason I asked is because I'm going to have no trouble breaking it."

"Oh, really?" he laughed.

Pamela nodded at me, and I rushed forward, using the self-defense skills Bruce and the Joker had taught me over the years. I grabbed his right wrist, which was holding the knife, and twisted it around his back. He yelped in pain, "You fucking crazy bitch!"

He struggled, but I held tight and kicked his ankles, sending him flying toward the ground. I used my foot to step down quickly on his throat, not allowing him to breathe. Pamela sauntered forward, picked up her foot, and swiftly stomped down on his leg. I heard a sickening crunch as she broke his ankle.

He was in pretty bad shape at this point, so I took my foot off of his throat, and cracked my knuckles, "I think we took care of that pretty well."

We high-fived, and Pamela leaned forward over the offending man, "Well, I'm sorry about that. See, I lied. I thought I could break your leg, but I only broke your ankle. Please accept my sincerest apologies."

He just stared wild-eyed up at us, and we linked arms and headed out of the alley.

"Poor guy; I don't think he knew what hit him." I was doubled over laughing.

"He deserved it for being so cliché. I mean, really, mugging two young, attractive women in an alley?" Pamela joined in on my laughter, "Dickhead."

"Scratch the 'young' part and you're totally right." I sighed, feeling suddenly nostalgic, "I'm almost 30, and what do I have to show for my life?"

"You have me." Pamela offered.

"Well, I was looking for something more fulfilling than your friendship, Pam."

When Pamela gave me a murderous look, I quickly added, "But good try though!"

"You have 2 boyfriends." She pointed out.

"Eh…not really…I don't count the Joker as anything, really. And Bruce hasn't spoken to me since our encounter in the hospital." I said as we approached my building, and lowered my voice substantially, "I would prefer we don't talk about this within range of the Joker's ears."

"Gotcha," Pamela winked, "I'd better be heading home anyway. I have a hot date with my television for the rest of the night."

"Good luck with that." I laughed, "I have no television."

"You poor soul, how do you live?" Pamela shook her head in amazement, "Are you sure you don't want me to pay for some cable?"

"We can't let a cable company know that we're living here. This building is for all intensive purposes condemned. So we could get arrested. Good thing the city of New York is extremely slow with construction and doesn't seem to give a shit that this building is falling apart." I explained.

She rolled her eyes, "You know you and the Joker could move in with me. I have plenty of space."

"He won't do it." I shrugged, "You know, the whole thing with you trying to kiss me sort of freaked him out just a little bit."

She flushed a considerable shade of scarlet, "Oh yeah, there's that whole business."

"Well, I'm going upstairs. Text me tomorrow if you want." I waved her good-bye, and did my now familiar trek with the abominable elevator and creaky stairs. I fished around in my purse for my keys, and upon locating them, opened the door to find no one home. The Joker had left recently; his magazine was still open on the couch and he had a left of bag of chips on the coffee table. I shook my head, disgusted by his apparent lack of hygiene and organization, and picked up the remains.

I flopped down on the couch, sifting through the latest issue of People magazine, and found myself immediately bored to tears. This whole no-TV thing was a fucking bummer.

As I started up my laptop, fervently hoping that there would be at least a bar of internet for me to use from the local businesses around us, my phone, which was on the table, buzzed. I picked it up. 'New Text Message from: B.' I bit my lip. Why was Bruce texting me?

I opened the text, 'Are you free tonight?'

I blinked a couple of times, not sure how to respond, 'Yeah, I guess. I thought you were still in the hospital.'

'Let me out yesterday. I can't do anything strenuous, but I can watch a movie. Interested?'

'Sure. Can't stay late, though…J will be suspicious.'

'Screw him.'

The corners of my mouth twitched up in a smile, 'Ha ha, Bruce. I will be there in 20 minutes.'

'Good. Let me know when you're here.'

I closed the phone, and sat there on my couch, contemplating this dilemma. Should I really go through with this? I then came to the conclusion that I had already risked enough, considering I had gone to his house and visited him in the hospital without the Joker knowing. Did I honestly care if he found out or not? Not really.

Fuck him. I was going out. I had no idea when he would be back, and not like he'd bother telling me anyway. I gathered up my purse, coat, and keys, and went out the door.


	5. Close Enough to You

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while. I'm sorry, the muses have not been kind to me, along with the fact that I had finals and papers and all kinds of crazy things. Here's to hoping that summer fares better for me!**

Chapter 5: Close Enough to You

_Together can never be close enough for me_

_I feel like I am close enough to you_

_You'll wear white and I'll wear out the words 'I love you'_

_And you're beautiful_

"_Marry Me", Train_

I pulled up to Wayne Manor, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of dread sweep through my bones. I shook it off. I couldn't let the fact that the Joker could be lurking around any corner get to me. I just couldn't. I made my choice to go here tonight, and I couldn't let myself change my mind because of a little fear. Deep down in my heart, I knew what I was doing was wrong, thoroughly and absolutely. On the other hand, there have been worse things I have done in my career as a villainess.

I liked that word. It was a good word.

I parked my car in the side garage with Bruce's Mercedes. He kept his nicest cars in the main garage underneath the house, along with the infamous Batmobile. I've ridden in it; believe me, that thing scared the ever-loving shit out of me the first time he took me around town. I can't believe he risks his life like that every day. Stupid men and their stupid egos.

As I walked briskly up the steps, heels clacking against the cobblestones, I couldn't help but feel disturbingly optimistic about this whole situation. Sure, the Joker was going to be beyond pissed off at me for disappearing, but he knows my nature. I can't stay cooped up for too long. It doesn't sit well with me.

I rang the doorbell, rocking back and forth on my heels impatiently. It was a chilly night; I hugged my red pea-coat closer around my shoulders. Soon, the door slowly opened, and revealed Alfred, who stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.

"Miss Quinzel."

"Alfred," I said, "Is Mr. Wayne at home?"

"Yes, he is expecting you." He stepped aside to let me through. I glanced over at him. He was surveying me with a look of complete disdain that only old British men can accomplish.

"Bruce?" I asked, my voice echoing down the long entrance hallway.

"In the main living room!" he called in response.

Knowing the exact layout of Bruce's manor by now, I didn't need Alfred to show me about; not that he would have been particularly happy to do so, anyway. When I located the living room, I saw Bruce lying on the couch, a huge, warm blanket thrown over his legs. He looked pretty brutal; his arm was in a sling, his eyes were a bit swollen still, and his shirtless torso was wrapped tightly with bandages. He just looked so…vulnerable, delicate. It was unsettling to me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Take off your coat." He demanded.

"Oh, sorry," I unbuttoned my jacket and draped it on the armchair next to me, "Now tell me how you're feeling."

"I am getting stronger every day. Alfred won't let me do anything for myself, of course. You know how he is."

"I can imagine." I forced a chuckle.

"You look upset. Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts about being here? If you are, you can go home. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." The words began to spill out of Bruce's mouth.

I interjected, "No, no, that's not it. I think Alfred thinks I'm a rotten whore, though."

"Yeah, he's a bit miffed at the whole you running out on our marriage business."

"Probably not as miffed as you are."

"I'll get over it."

"Bruce, I…" I grasped his hand, "I'm sorry for everything that's happened between us. I am a truly awful person, making you feel that way. Don't pretend to be aloof like that so that you can prove to me that you're strong. I know you're not the type that cries so I'm not asking for any physical signs of grief, but really…it's ok to be upset with me."

"Well, yeah, I was upset with you, Harley, but now you're here. You're here with me right now, and that shows me that you still care more about me than you do about him."

"I still care about him, too."

"But you don't love him." He pointed out.

"I don't know what I feel for that man." I sighed, tucking my legs under me, "Right now, it's a hodgepodge combination of hatred, respect, disgust, and just general fondness."

"That is a confusing number of things."

"You're telling me." I said, rubbing my temples, "I have a headache trying to comprehend them all at once. Pam thinks I'm trying to be a martyr."

"Pam as in…Pam," he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that Pam. She's my best friend, like it or not. Shows you the sad, pathetic excuse of a life I've lived." I know Pam would smack me good and hard for that one but she wasn't here so it was none of her damn business anyway. So there.

"How long has that been going on?" he didn't sound angry, just curious.

"A few months now, ever since the –" I paused, gauging the look on Bruce's face, "he and I moved into our apartment. She still keeps in contact with him and we ended up talking one day, and we decided just to let it go. We did have a somewhat good thing going until the whole I might be in love with you thing."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Dude, of course it bothered me. She assured me that we were past all that. She and I became friends at a very vulnerable time in my life. I thought you were dead for a couple of minutes; he and I weren't speaking…I mean, she was there to support me through a lot but that didn't really give her the right to assume I had feelings for her." I explained, "I told her all of that, and she understands. Now we're kind of sisterly."

"I guess it's good that you have someone to talk to about your problems since I can't be around all the time." He nodded in acknowledgment, "Tell her that if I find out that she tried to kiss you again, I will have to literally punch her in the ovaries."

"Duly noted," I laughed, "She doesn't need those, anyway. She's not exactly the mothering type."

"I can imagine."

"Well, she actually literally can't have kids because the poisonous chemicals fucked her ovaries to oblivion." I said, shrugging, "So I think she has given up that whole business."

"That's kind of sad. I would be pretty devastated if I couldn't have children." Bruce admitted.

"So would I." I agreed.

It was an awkward moment for the ages. Here we sat, two ex-lovers, discussing children.

"Let's change the subject." Bruce said.

I sighed with relief, "Um, yeah, definitely. We are in no shape to be discussing that."

Bruce attempted to sit up straighter on the couch, but his face crumpled in pain as he tried to do so. I leaned forward, and wordlessly helped him up, being careful of his ribs. He stared at me, his eyes searching mine, and then he said, "But, hypothetically speaking…what would you name your children?"

"Ava Maria and Charles Henry," I said without thinking.

After Bruce stared at me in a mixture of confusion and amazement, I said quickly, "I've been considering them for a long time."

"They're both good names." He said, and fell silent for a moment. I didn't say anything, not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. He finally looked up at me, "Do you regret leaving me?"

"Sometimes," I said, trying to be as honest as possible.

"What don't you regret about leaving me?"

"Bruce, I don't want to talk about this." I said warningly, "I really don't want to get into a discussion that will hurt you any more than you're already hurting."

He sighed, "Fine. I just…I miss you, Harley. I'm still trying to grasp why you left me in the first place. I could have made you so happy. I'm sure you know that."

"I do." I said, placing my hand on his, and decided to change the subject before it got any deeper, "So, how are you doing knowing that Gotham has fallen into the slimy hands of the criminals?"

"Not well," he grimaced, "Alfred sleeps on the couch in the next room so that he'll hear me get up. I listen to the police bulletins for hours."

"Why do you want to torture yourself like that?"

"I want to know what's happening. I feel like shit. I can't help any of these people right now." He balled up his fist, knuckles turning white from the pressure, "Sometimes I wish I had trained someone as an apprentice, so he could go and do some of this for me."

"Then find someone." I said matter-of-factly.

"It's not that simple." He shook his head, "I have to find someone I can truly trust, and who won't be swayed by this city. It's a tough life. I also have to invest a lot of time and effort and money into it, you know. I'm not concerned by the issue of the money but more the fact that having someone beside me will be a huge change."

"I can imagine." I nodded in acknowledgment, "You should have trained Harvey Dent to take over. Remember when he announced that he was the Batman?"

"Yes, I remember." Bruce said shortly.

"You have something against him?"

"It's not something I should talk about."

"Bruce, it's just me. You know I don't have anyone to tell secrets to, anyway. I have a sad, pathetic, lonely existence, remember?" I teased.

"Seriously, Harley, I don't think you want to know about the real Harvey Dent."

"The real…?" I was puzzled.

"Yes. Harvey Dent was not the man the media made him out to be. The circumstances surrounding his death were suspect at best. I would know because I was there."

"You were there when he died?" I asked, engulfed in his story, and suddenly I came to a terrible realization, "Did you…kill him, Bruce?"

He was eerily and disturbingly silent.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, "Why? What did he ever do to you?"

"Harvey was a menace. After Rachel was killed, Harvey was…emotional. He got half of his face blown off in the explosion, and he refused any sort of medical treatment. With the help of your precious Joker, he escaped from the hospital and went on a bit of a killing spree. Harvey kidnapped Commissioner Gordon's wife and children and threatened to kill Gordon's young son. I found them. Harvey shot me in the side –"

"He SHOT you?" I exclaimed, attempting to embrace him in pure sympathy.

"Yes, I recovered just fine." He said, waving away my mothering hands, "I waited until the opportune moment, and tackled him. We fell quite a distance. Harvey was killed on impact. I had to do it, Harley. Harvey would have gone on murdering more people and wreaking more havoc in the city than ever before. It was absolutely necessary to rid the world of him. It was truly sad, you know; Harvey was a great man. Loyal, just, and passionate…but unfortunately, he had a mean streak like a son of a bitch."

I took in his story, hardly believing what I was hearing. It was amazing how much the news failed to report.

"I might have to take it up with the Joker about that one." I said after a moment.

"Yeah, he was sort of the mastermind behind all of it. He wanted to prove that Harvey was corruptible."

"I guess he did." I felt ashamed. Here I was, shacking up with the man who wanted to create so much evil in the world and in front of me was a man, torn up from guilt that he had to kill a man. Was I out of my fucking mind for staying with the Joker? I felt better knowing that I was going to escape with Bruce in a few months, but it seemed so far away.

"Hey, don't be upset at yourself for this." Bruce must have read my mind; he was pretty good at that, "You weren't even in the picture when all of this happened. You were off being a grad student somewhere."

I had to smile a little at that, "That's true. I still feel like I should have expected more from him. I think he's a totally different person when he's around me."

"Well, I knew that the whole psycho clown thing had to be a bit. That's how all of them are." Bruce shrugged, "It's not like I don't think he's a person underneath all that swagger."

"Oh, see, I have to admit that I thought you kind of hated his guts more than anything."

"Oh, I do." Bruce said automatically, "I hate him for what he's done to you."

"What exactly has he done?"

"He's made you into…someone that you don't want to be. I wish I had known you before him, and could have given you a better life, Harley."

"I wish life wasn't full of 'if's and 'but's," I retorted, "I try my best to live with no regrets but you men make it very difficult for me."

"I'm just saying that I know the Joker is human, and a lot of people forget that. I'm sure you know that better than anyone else in the world." Bruce said, smiling with a hint of bitterness, "I bet that is what keeps you around, the fact that you could fix him someday. I think that is a frivolous hope, Harley, but you're just so nice to a fault sometimes and you think that everything is going to be sunshine and daisies eventually."

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little optimistic, too, Bruce." I said defensively, "And you know what? The Joker is a human being, too, and I see that on a daily basis. I see him outside of all the media craze and beyond his persona. He is only a man, and he was a scared child once who was beaten and abused to the point where he had to become this. I'm not saying that it is psychologically sound or reasonable that he reacted that way, but I can't blame him entirely for all of it. I don't exactly sympathize with him, but I…I feel some kind of pity for him."

"That's not a relationship." Bruce said curtly.

"I'm well aware of that." I sighed, frustrated at him and at myself, "I shouldn't have come here tonight, Bruce. I don't think you're ready to talk about what happened between us. I think we need some more time apart to think about what we're going to do." I stood up.

Bruce struggled to find words, "Wait, wait, Harley, I didn't want to upset you! I want you to come with me and get away from here. This meeting doesn't change my mind, in case you were wondering."

I smiled, and kissed him on the forehead, "I'd better get going, anyway. I'll call you when I can."

"Alright," he returned the smile, "Don't forget about me."

"You know I won't." I laughed, "Bye, Bruce."

"Bye, Harley," he called as I walked out the front door and breathed in the night.

I stepped forward, and suddenly hands closed around my mouth. I tried to scream, and a male voice said, "Give her the chloroform."

A horrible-smelling cloth was pressed to my face, and then everything went dark.


	6. Noose Around Your Neck

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger. You knew I wouldn't keep you hanging on too long, though, right? Heh. I don't own DC Comics affiliated characters. Another quick sidenote: I introduce the villain Bane in this chapter, and I would like to point out that I am taking artistic liberty with the character because his background is kind of confusing, in my opinion, so just let me run with it, guys. I know he is going to be in the next Batman film "The Dark Knight Rises" and is being portrayed by Tom Hardy, but I sort of picture him as more like Bradley Cooper mostly because I kind of adore Bradley Cooper, but you can picture him as Tom Hardy as much as your little hearts desire. Peace, love, and happy reading, everyone!  
**

Chapter 6: Noose Around Your Neck

_But I have seen the same_

_I know the shame in your defeat_

_But I will hold on hope_

_And I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck_

"_The Cave," Mumford & Sons_

Disoriented, I blinked my eyes slowly, trying to regain focus and get some idea of my surroundings. I tried to move my head, wincing as my neck cracked painfully. My hands, I soon realized, were tied together and bound to a chair. The room was dark with only a crack of light coming from the gap between the door and the floor. Footsteps paced outside the door, their shadows dancing and cutting off some of the light. Hushed voices were arguing rapidly.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Yes," a man's voice snapped in response, "We caught her outside Wayne's mansion."

"I wonder what she was doing there."

"Fuck if I know, but I know her and Wayne had something going on before. They were engaged, I think."

"Really?" the other voice sounded intrigued, "That could work to our advantage."

The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open. I closed my eyes at the sudden burst of light, and a hand slapped me across the face.

"Wake up, whore."

I spit at whoever this person was, not even caring if I pissed him off, "Fuck you, prick! What do you want with me?"

"A feisty one," he laughed, and as I adjusted my eyes to the light in the room, I could see he was a tall man, impressively muscular, with dark hair and tanned skin. He spoke with a decidedly English accent, "I can't imagine how the Joker puts up with this one. She seems like a little pain in the ass."

"Who are you, and what the hell do you want with me?" I asked snidely, "I don't take too kindly to being kidnapped."

"I don't think you are in much of a position to be asking a lot of questions, Miss Quinzel." He said, but added thoughtfully, "However, since you are so bold and I like that in a woman, I will tell you. The name is Bane, and as for what the hell I want with you…you're just going to have to wait and find out."

"That's nice and deceptive." I snorted derisively.

"Yes, well, I can't have you knowing too much." He grinned; his teeth were surprisingly white and straight. He clearly had a wealthy upbringing, judging by his well-groomed appearance and stiff posture.

He leaned forward, studying me closely, "You are a pretty one, Miss Quinzel. I can see why Bruce Wayne and the Joker are vying for your attention."

"Why were you waiting outside Bruce's house?"

"Well, isn't that the million-dollar question." Bane shrugged nonchalantly, much to my complete exasperation, "As I said, all will be revealed in due time. But for now, I would like it if you just settle in and get comfortable, because you're going to be here a while."

"Life can't be too comfortable in a metal folding chair." I said as he turned to walk out of the room.

He halted for a moment, and then stepped outside. He grabbed a man walking by, "Move Miss Quinzel to a room with a bed, if you please. She is a lady, after all."

Bane turned to look at me, and a hint of a smile crossed his face. He then disappeared into the hallway, and the aforementioned man came in, and untied me from the chair. He held my hands behind my back, and led me to a staircase a few feet away. We climbed up a couple flights of stairs and we arrived at a room. He opened the door for me, and pushed me inside, slamming the door behind me.

Rude.

I guess I could have fought back. But at this point, I was just too tired and confused to do anything except conjure up the energy to keep my persona intact. I couldn't let myself go down looking like a weak little bitch. That just wouldn't do.

There was a window in the room, I noticed. I walked over to it, hoping that it would give me some sense of where I was. I nearly stumbled as I saw how high up this building was; it was one of the skyscrapers in Gotham. I recognized a couple of the buildings across the street. I had been down there before, shopping and running errands. Well, there went my idea of risking it and just jumping out the window.

Plus, the window was locked tightly, as I found out by shoving all my weight against it. I cursed to myself, rubbing my now-aching shoulder, "Stupid fucking windows in this stupid fucking place where I am being fucking held hostage!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Keep it down in there!" someone tapped loudly on my door.

"Go fuck yourself up the ass!" I ever-so-eloquently replied.

"Women," I heard the guy mutter.

I collapsed on the bed in the room, staring up at the ceiling, feeling totally and utterly helpless. That was a feeling I didn't particularly like, and by that I mean for me, that was the worst god damn feeling in the world.

I bolted straight up, and checked my pockets. Of course they had taken my phone and my wallet. I keep thinking men are stupid, and they continually surprise me.

…

I eventually managed to fall asleep, but it was fitful and was done in desperation to get out of being bored out of my damn mind. The room had nothing in it except me, and I wasn't the best company imaginable in my state.

After I woke up the next morning, I called outside the door, "Hey…um, guy that sits out there?"

"Yes?" he asked somewhat reluctantly.

"Can you give me some paper or something?"

"Why?"

I could see why he would be skeptical, but pressed onward, "I'm really bored and I just want something to do. I can at least draw or write…if I'm going to be a prisoner, I would really prefer not to be left to my own devices."

"…I'll see what I can do." He said after a moment's hesitation. I then heard his footsteps retreating down the tiled hallway.

He returned about 5 minutes later, opened the door the slightest sliver possible, and thrust 4 or 5 pieces of paper into the room. Just when I was about to ask if the moron remembered a pencil, a sharpened number-two pencil was handed to me, as well.

"Thanks, bro," I said.

He mumbled some incoherent acceptance of my gratitude.

I doodled on the floor for a while, which managed to keep me somewhat occupied. Incessant knocking interrupted my creative flow, and I irritably got up and walked to the door.

"Yes?" I asked.

"It's Bane." He said curtly.

"Alright," I rolled my eyes, and stepped aside as he stepped inside. As I got a somewhat better look at him, he wasn't actually that bad looking; in fact, he was quite handsome with his hair slicked back, bronzed skin; he was dressed in a very fashionable Armani three-piece suit and matching shoes.

"Good morning," he said, and closed the door behind him, "I hope you slept well."

"As well as I could in a lumpy-ass twin size bed." I was almost embarrassed for myself at how ridiculously bitchy I sounded, but it was too late to take it back.

He sat down on it, and then stood up almost immediately, "Yes, I'm pretty sure I would throw out my back sleeping on that. I apologize. I will move you as soon as possible."

"Thanks," I said. I stared at him quizzically; I could not figure this guy out. First, he calls me a whore and then he's all gentlemanly with me. I know guys played games to get what they wanted, but being bipolar takes it a little far for my taste.

"Miss Quinzel," he began.

"Harley," I corrected, "We might as well get familiar if I'm going to be staying here for an indefinite amount of time."

"Well, then, Harley," he smiled slightly; this was then followed with an awkwardly long pause, "I'm trying to figure out what has the Joker so fixed. I mean, your outward beauty is apparent, but the only emotion I've seen from you is angry and hormonal. I take it that there's more to you than meets the eye, hmm?"

"I guess so." I shrugged, "I only show the best of me to people that deserve it. You being my kidnapper...um, well, not exactly in my list of people that deserve it."

"I understand completely." He sighed, "Harley, I really didn't want to resort to kidnapping. It's so amateur."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Ah, there's the complicated part." He strode over to the window, resting his hands on the ledge, "You live with the Joker, correct?"

I remained silent.

"Harley, if you want to get through this, you're going to have to answer my questions." Bane said, fists clenching a little.

"Ok, Mr. Anger Management," I said, "Yes, I live with the Joker."

"Just the two of you?"

"Yes."

"You were engaged to Bruce Wayne."

"Was that a question or were you asking for affirmation?"

"You know what I meant by it," he frowned.

"Yes, I was engaged to Bruce Wayne."

"Why did you leave him?"

"That's a bit personal." This wasn't my bravado talking; I did actually feel sort of uncomfortable.

"I am getting a little impatient with your aversion to answering me." Bane said warningly.

"Alright, alright," I said quickly. I think I knew better than to make a man three times my size murderously angry, "I left Bruce for the Joker."

"So, then you love the Joker?"

"Yes, but not in the romantic sense," I replied.

"Is there any other way to love someone?"

"I love him in a protector sort of way…it's a very confusing thing, inexplicable at times. He is my friend, and I want to protect him from the world at all costs. I don't love him in the way he loves me."

"And how is that?" Bane asked.

I knew I was revealing too much, but I had to keep going, "Well, he is in love with me, basically. He would do anything for me. I say that because I know it's true, and I can't avoid it. I know you want to use that to your advantage, but the Joker is always one step ahead of everyone else. You remember that, Bane. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met, but not in the conventional sense. He knows you down to your deepest core, your last fiber just by 10 minutes alone with you. It is disconcerting how well he can figure you out. You'll find out soon enough."

"Is that a threat?" Bane's lips twitched upward, amused.

"No, it's a promise." I said grimly, "Honestly, I don't think you want Bruce Wayne and the Joker on your heels. They're both very powerful men in their own right."

"I'm a powerful man myself." He flexed his arms in a gesture of pure machismo, "In case you haven't noticed."

"Oh, I have," I said in acknowledgment, surveying his impressive form.

"Do I detect a hint of flirtation in your voice, Miss Quinzel?"

"I think you need to have your hearing examined." I shot back, flushing.

Seriously, I cannot be a victim of Stockholm syndrome. That's so fucking typical. I wanted to bang my head against a wall for my very inappropriate, misplaced affections for another man behavior, but I was afraid that might look a little strange.

Jesus, I'm like a walking psychological case study.

"Miss Quinzel?" his voice broke my derailing train of thought.

"What?"

"You sort of blanked for a minute there." He raised an eyebrow, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." I shook my head vehemently, trying to focus on the moment, "Sorry. Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

He glanced at his watch, "Ah, damn, I'm a bit late for a very important engagement. I will have to put this little interrogation on hold. I will be back later. In the meantime, if you need anything, just ask Gerard."

"Who's that?"

"The man that keeps a very vigilant watch outside your door," he replied.

"Ah," I said simply.

He bid me farewell and swept out of the room before I had a chance to say anything more. I sat down on the bed, massaging my throbbing temples. Maybe I should ask Gerard for an Advil. I exhaled audibly. This was already just not my day. I knew it was going to be a while before anyone truly noticed I was gone. Bruce and I didn't exactly have reliable, solid communication with one another, and the Joker was already pissed at me. The only person I could think of that might be concerned right away was Pam. I usually texted Pam all day, telling her about my boring existence; she was bound to figure out something was up.

I hoped someone would, and soon. I needed to get out before something bad happened, or worse…I would actually start to like this guy.


	7. Mad Woman, Bad Woman

**A/N: I felt like I was gone longer than I was. Oh well, here's another chapter. Revealing a little more about Bane as we go along. He's all complicated and stuff, which seems to be a habit for Harley's men. Poor thing, I just torture her so. It makes for a good story though, right? **

Chapter 7: Mad Woman, Bad Woman

_Black, black, black and blue, beat me till I'm numb_

_Tell the devil I said "hey" when you get back to where you're from_

_Mad woman, bad woman_

_That's just who you are_

_Yeah, you smile in my face then rip the brakes out my car_

"_Grenade," Bruno Mars _

After a few hours of silent waiting, someone knocked sharply on my door.

"Yeah?" I called.

"Are you hungry, Miss Quinzel?" Gerard grumbled.

"Um…yes, I am." I leaned against the door, "What do you guys have?"

"I'll make you a grilled cheese. Is that ok?"

"That sounds good. Will you bring me some water, too?" I added after a moment of thought.

He grunted with acknowledgment and then walked away.

I think he may actually like me, the lovable jerk.

I waited for a moment or two, and pulled the little folding chair in the room over to the door, cringing at the scraping sounds it make against the tile floor. I propped it under the small opening between the wood and the floor, and pushed down the chair as hard I could. The door didn't budge. I pouted. I thought I could go all Will Turner in Pirates of the Caribbean on it. I guess that shit only works in movies.

I pulled the chair away and stared at the door, frowning with concentration. I bet I looked like a damn fool trying to figure this out, but right now, I was just trying to find a way to break down the door. It was only wood, after all.

I was about seconds away from using the chair to bash it when a short, balding man with humongous arm muscles walked in, holding a plate with a sandwich on it and a glass of water. I assumed it had to be Gerard.

"Here's your lunch." He said, holding it out to me. Upon listening closer, I could tell he had a slight French accent.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him. He just stood there for a moment, watching me.

"Um…is there anything else?" I asked awkwardly.

"Mr. Bane would like you to know that he will be here in exactly 2 hours, mademoiselle." He informed me.

"Oh, alright," I shifted uncomfortably, "Can I eat in peace?"

"Of course," he said, and exited the room.

I sat down cross-legged on the bed, balancing the plate in my lap. I took a bite and realized how starving I had been. It was actually pretty good. Not bad for an alarmingly brutish Frenchman.

I finished my lunch, and took to people-watching outside the window. They just walked right on by, paying no attention to the fact that people (well, meaning myself) were being forced against their will to give up information about their loved ones. All they cared about was getting back to work on time or how long the coffee line was at Starbucks. I knew I had been just one of those people, and I knew I would never care about an inconsequential someone like me if I lived a normal life like they did. A normal life…ha, what a cruel joke.

As I lost myself in my thoughts, I managed to fall asleep for a little while, considering I was exhausted from my previously fitful night. My much-needed rest was then unceremoniously interrupted by my door getting pounded on.

"Jesus, come in already." I called.

Bane entered, looking a bit frazzled, "Have you been in contact with the Joker?"

"You took my phone." I said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, right," he paced the room, apparently a bit bothered.

"Um…did something happen?" I was getting dizzy watching him.

He halted, "Yes. The Joker is not taking the fact that you are missing very well. He decided to blow up a couple of buildings in downtown Gotham in his rage. He just came on the news threatening to release poisonous gas in 5 random spots throughout the city if no one tells him where Harley Quinn is." He looked pointedly at me, "Does this surprise you?"

I bit my lip, "Not exactly."

"What do you think I should do?" He collapsed into the folding chair, "I can't keep you here much longer. I was not planning on such an outrageous reaction."

"You're dealing with the Joker. Are you new at this criminal game?" I sighed, "I think you're sorely mistaken if you think he's not going to do everything he can to find me. And he will likely kill you in the process."

Bane looked me dead in the eye, "I'd put up a fight, at least."

"I believe it."

"You don't think I'd win?" he smirked.

"With your sheer might, maybe," I shrugged, "But the Joker isn't much of a head-on confrontation sort of man. He likes to get inside your head and then strike you down when you're at your worst. I've been there."

"I'm sorry that had to happen to you." He said.

"It's no big."

"No, really, I am sorry." He put his head in his hands, "I don't know what to fucking do, Harley…this is not what I intended."

"What was the purpose of kidnapping me, then?" I folded my arms across my chest, "What did you plan on accomplishing with that whole business?"

"Can I be honest with you, Harley?" Bane stood up, and crossed the room, sitting down on the bed next to me. I impulsively moved further away from him. His sheer physical prowess was intimidating; I knew he could crush me like a twig if he felt like it.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"My first instinct is to protect myself." I retorted, "You can't really blame me."

He looked me up and down, and smiled slightly, "You're a smart woman, Harleen Quinzel. If my sources are correct, you went to NYU for your undergraduate and doctorate program in psychology, your parents were renowned in their fields, and you had everything in life. To think that the Joker ruined all of that for you…" his fists balled up, knuckles turning white from the pressure, "It boils my blood."

I stared at him, puzzled, "I don't why you care."

He exhaled audibly, "I grew up in a prison, not knowing my real parents. My supposed father was an infamous revolutionary. They said that he or one of his associates just deposited me at the steps of the prison one day when I was almost 4 years old. They thought I would be like my father; stupid, reckless, and above all, dangerous. I sought refuge with a Jesuit priest that they had imprisoned there as well, and he taught me everything I knew about life, spirituality…I read any book I could get my hands on; anything from Darwin to Steinbeck to Dickens. I learned history, fine arts, and grammar, all from books. I stayed at the prison until I was 18 years old and they released me."

I was totally taken aback by his story, "So, how did you end up here in Gotham?"

"I stowed away on a boat going to New York about a month after my release. I enrolled at Cornell under a fake name and records, and got a business degree. I started my company, which sells health products, vitamins, things of that nature. Now I'm a multimillionaire."

"If you're so successful, then what are you doing in the underground criminal world?" I wondered aloud.

He looked sharply at me, "If I'm not mistaken, a certain billionaire is running around the city in a bat costume."

I froze. He knew about Bruce being Batman. How was that possible? I racked my brain, trying to think of a way that it could get back to some CEO at a health products company. I came up with nothing.

My total paralysis must have showed on my face, because Bane smirked, "Yes, I have a bone to pick – so to speak – with Bruce Wayne."

"So that's why you kidnapped me? You wanted him to find me, and then he would be forced to talk to you." The pieces were all finally falling into place.

"Bingo, my dear."

"Ok, well, the only thing I don't understand is why you got the Joker involved."

"The Joker was an unfortunate side effect to the otherwise flawless plan. I did not realize the relationship that the two of you had was so…intense, for lack of a better word." Bane ran a hand through his hair, "Now I have to answer to him for my actions, too. You see, Harley, I don't want to be a criminal. This is just good business. You've got to take every measure you can to ensure the best possible results, even if it means doing something illegal."

"What do you want with Bruce?" I inquired, "Did he flake out on some business deal or something?"

"Oh, it's a little bit more complicated than that." He said elusively.

"Well, we're already having honesty hour, so you might as well just tell me." I said irritably.

"Alright, remember when I said that I didn't know my real father?"

I nodded in recognition.

"After doing some extensive research on my parentage, it came to my attention that the man who had claimed to be my father was, in fact, not at all. However, it is possible that a doctor named Thomas Wayne could be my real father."

"Holy shit!" I couldn't even contain my surprise.

"That was my reaction exactly."

I was totally speechless, other than being articulate enough to say, "Holy shit" about 4 more times in the span of a minute.

"Yes, well, you can see the dilemma I'm facing."

"That's one hell of a dilemma." I affirmed, "When do you plan on telling Bruce?"

"I believe I planned on doing that when he came to retrieve his lady love." He said half-jokingly.

I raised very skeptical eyebrows at him, "Do you know that Bruce is currently lying in his mansion with like 2 broken ribs and therefore can't actually physically achieve that task?"

His face fell, "Um…well, that throws a bit of a wrench into the plan."

"Well, dude, here's your problem. Now you have the Joker baying for your blood and an even more pissed off Bruce Wayne waiting in the wings to kick your ass." I shook my head in disbelief, "This was a very misguided kidnapping attempt, I must say."

"Yeah, I guess so."

I was surprised that he would readily admit to his mistake, but chose to say nothing about it. He must be desperate to be revealing this to me.

"Um…well…" I said somewhat awkwardly, "Bruce would certainly get here faster if I talked to him, just so you know."

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he snarled, jumping up, "Telling Bruce where you are? Why would I ever allow you to do that?"

"Because," I said, standing up with my hands planted firmly on my hips, "You can't keep avoiding talking to him with a burden this big on your shoulders, Bane! This could change both of your lives forever! Bruce has been living with loneliness for years and you could relieve him of that, knowing he has a connection still to his parents. However, you're never going to find out because you're too big of a pussy to talk to him yourself!"

Something must have snapped in his brain, because he grabbed me by the neck, shoving me against the wall. I struggled to breathe beneath his grip, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Never – ever – call – me – a – pussy." He choked, his fist tightening slightly, "All I have to do is squeeze and you're fucking dead, Harley."

I was legitimately terrified. I choked out, "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. Please let me go, please."

"Promise me."

"I promise." I felt blessed air rush into my lungs as he released me, and I fell to the floor, choking and gasping for breath. Once I regained the rest of my consciousness, I staggered to my feet, giving him what I can only describe as a death glare worthy of Satan, "What the fuck was that? Are you bipolar or something? Seriously!"

When I looked up to gauge his response, to my surprise Bane was backed up against the wall, looking utterly mortified.

"Am I bleeding or something?" I started to panic, hands touching all over my neck.

He shook his head vehemently, "No, no, I just…I just…can't believe I did that. God, Harley, I'm so sorry. I have no idea what came over me. This has happened a few times before. I just go into fits of blind rage without even knowing why or with the tiniest provocation. I'm so sorry, I really am. I should have warned you about that."

"Um…yeah, that might have a good detail to mention." I blinked, a bit confused, "Have you seen a doctor or a psychologist? You know random acts of violence are a common symptom of recurring childhood memories of physical or verbal abuse."

I didn't mean to scare him, but this was my area of expertise.

"Yes, I know the cause of them." He admitted hesitantly, "I was experimented on a long time ago and when I go through withdrawal, shit like this tends to happen - fits of rage, blacking out, and intense vomiting, to name a few – and they still can't figure out why."

"People experimented on you? That doesn't sound safe." I raised a very skeptical eyebrow.

"They were paying me well to do it. It was my ticket to get out of Ecuador, where I was at the time. It was either that or selling cocaine, but I figured the experimentation seemed a little more legal than the other option." He sighed, slumping down to the floor in exhaustion, "I'm so sorry, Harley. I'm such a fucked-up mess."

"I can see that." I said matter-of-factly, and walked over to him, kneeling in front of him, "If you ever need someone to talk to about your past, you know I have a doctorate in psychology."

"Thanks, Doc." He smiled slightly, "Do you forgive me?"

"Not exactly," I helped him up. I pointed to the long, jagged scar that had faded but was still markedly visible on my neck, probably now along with the red wound of strangulation, "This is the Joker's gift to me."

Bane gingerly touched the mark, "Does it hurt?"

"No, not at all now," I said, shrugging, "It's probably going to be there forever but I've gotten used to the idea. It makes me look tough."

Bane smiled crookedly, "Your neck seems to attract danger. You'd better hope you don't run into any vampires late at night."

I stared him down, "Now that would be just my fucking luck."


	8. A Hundred Storms

**A/N: Ahhh work prevents me from writing more. Boo. A very emotional chapter, I enjoyed writing it. I especially enjoy Harley's rant because her soul possesses me at random times and allows me to write her. Yup, that happens. Hope everyone is enjoying the summer sun!  
**

Chapter 8: A Hundred Storms

_Under haunted skies I see you_

_Where love is lost your ghost is found_

_I braved a hundred storms to leave you_

_As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down_

"_Turning Tables," Adele _

My trembling fingers were fastened to the trigger, feeling the radiating heat from the barrel. I felt frozen in time, my body shaking uncontrollably. I felt nauseous; horribly, horribly nauseous. I abruptly dropped the gun, jumping back instinctively as it clanged against the cold concrete. I then became sick, doubling over, retching and not caring who heard me.

How could I have done this?

When I managed to compose myself, wiping the remains off of my lips, I straightened up and cast a hesitant glare at the body lying behind me. The blood seeped through his clothes and onto the ground, flowing languidly. I could feel the blood rush to my head, and I became sick again, dry heaving until there was nothing left. I finally stood up, and leaned heavily against the door frame, hoping the solid oak would give me some support. I just killed him. I just shot him point blank.

I stared at the body, not quite believing what had just happened. It was self-defense…it had to be. I had no choice. My eyes felt raw; I rubbed at them and realized I had been crying. I didn't even notice before. I stepped gingerly forward and examined the situation. He was dead. He wasn't moving at all; his chest was not moving up and down in that familiar pattern.

"Shit," I whispered, "shit, shit, shit."

I saw the flash of lightning light up the nearby window, and thunder pounded incessantly. Rain and hail struck against the glass, threatening to break it in.

As I was stuffing his body into a lawn and leaf bag, I muttered to myself, "Well, way to fucking go, Harley. You just murdered someone again. Real fucking good."

How did I get there? It was all in a blur in my mind, trying to re-capture the last 24 hours of my life. I went over and over it in my head as a therapeutic method, focusing on and assessing the situation at hand.

…

Ok, so I remember waking up in my little dingy one-room cell, feeling pangs of hunger. I stumbled my way over to the door, still in the throes of sleep deprivation, and knocking lightly on the door, "Hey Gerard?"

There was no answer. I thought maybe he was just asleep or trying to be mean to me on purpose. He seemed like the type that would do that.

"Gerard? Quit fucking around. I'm starving and I would like some cereal or something if you have it." I stood at the door, impatiently tapping my foot.

My demands were again met with silence.

I blinked a couple times, puzzled. Gerard was literally always there. I assumed he slept in the chair out there and only left to go to the bathroom. What a shitty life, I think, but I digress.

In a familiar and unconscious motion, I moved to open the door. To my complete and utter surprise, it swung aside and suddenly I was in the deserted hallway. Something in my peripheral caused me alarm, and I turned and saw Gerard lying face-down on the ground, blood pooling out of his head. I gasped, stifling my impending scream with my hands. He looked like his head had been bashed in.

"Miss Quinzel?" a deep voice echoed from around the corner.

"Who is it?" I called, and immediately felt like an idiot for totally drawing attention to myself.

Out from the shadows stepped Antoine, the Joker's bodyguard. He was dressed in all black with a ski mask on his head so he completely blended in with the dark, considering his deep African complexion. He was from Nigeria or something, I couldn't remember especially at this moment in time. I just shook his head at the bloodied bat in his hands, "You killed my source of food."

"You'll get plenty of it when I get you back to the boss." He shrugged. He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket, and pressed the 'talk' button, "The eagle has landed."

"Good. Bring her home." I heard his familiar indifferent tone, and my eyes began to fill with tears at the sound; partly because I missed him and partly because he was clearly wiped out from all of the searching for me. He must have been relieved, but he would never show it.

"10-4, boss." The walkie-talkie beeped as it shut off. Antoine turned to face me, "Come with me, Miss Quinzel."

I followed him quietly, and after a moment, asked hesitantly, "How is he?"

"Beyond pissed," Antoine said shortly.

I sighed, hanging my head dejectedly, "I figured as much. I guess I have a lot of groveling to do when I get home."

"He's not angry at you, Miss Quinzel." Antoine corrected me, and I perked up a little, "I can't say the same for this Bane character, though. The boss has a list of ways he can torture him that's longer than I am." He chuckled deeply; he sounded a bit like James Earl Jones when he did.

"That doesn't really surprise me." I said, and I couldn't help but smile.

"I've never seen the boss so worked up over something before." Antoine admitted, "He lost a lot of sleep over this."

"How did he find out I was here?'

"He has his ways."

That always seems to be the way he finds out anything.

We moved along quietly after that because we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. When we got to the main hallway, he pressed the button for the elevator. When it came to our floor, it dinged and the doors opened. We stepped inside, and Antoine pushed the button for the basement. I stared at him inquisitively, and he said, "I parked my car near there."

I nodded in acknowledgment and waited anxiously for the elevator to hit the bottom floor. I cast a surreptitious glance at Antoine. He was not a bad guy, which I always figured. He wasn't an unattractive man, either; he kind of looked like a younger Samuel L. Jackson but taller and much bulkier, like a linebacker.

"Do you have a family, Antoine?" I asked.

He looked taken aback, but relaxed slightly, "Depends on what you mean by family."

"I mean, like are you married with kids or something?"

"No, but I do have a boyfriend."

"…a boyfriend?" I could not even hide the look on my face at this declaration, "Wow, I would have never guessed."

"Not many people do," he said gruffly, but appeared unruffled by my reaction, "I came out a few years ago."

"That must have been difficult." I remarked as the elevator stopped at the basement level.

He shrugged, "Not as difficult as the things I have to do for your boyfriend."

As the doors opened and I attempted to come up with a witty retort, Antoine and I were met with a very tired and haggard-looking Bane. He looked up at us, and his eyes widened in shock.

What happened in the next 20 seconds is still a blur. Bane and Antoine pulled a gun on each other without much trepidation, and Bane cocked it, I rushed forward, wrestling the gun out of his hands. He fell backward, his arm hitting mine on the way down. I stumbled, the gun still in my hands. I don't honestly know how it happened, but the trigger fired and the bullet went into Antoine's head. Life felt like it was in slow motion as he fell to the ground, the blood spurting from the wound in his frontal lobe. I stared in bewilderment, not believing what had just transpired. That's what I remember.

I felt like the worst person in the world. Here Antoine was telling me the most intimate secret of his existence, and I just fucking shot him in the fucking head. As I vomited out my grief, Bane slowly stood up and examined the body.

"Shit, shit, shit…" I kept muttering to myself.

Bane tapped me on the shoulder, and I started, smacking him in the face in an involuntary movement.

"Jesus Christ, Harley!" he yelped, "I'm just trying to help you!"

"Sorry," I couldn't even put any gusto into that statement, "I'm just trying to deal with the fact that I fucking killed someone…again."

"Again?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Long story," I shook my head vehemently, "We need to do something about this."

"Ok, let me think, let me think." Bane massaged his temples, "Well, we need to get him out of here first and foremost. I'll get a lawn and leaf bag and we'll stuff him in there, get him out to the back with the trash. My people will clean this shit up, be discreet. It will be fine, I promise."

"I know, but I just…" I stared at Antoine's lifeless form, feeling like this wasn't real, some really crazy nightmare concocted in my occipital lobe or something, like a desperate attempt to pretend I was going to escape from Bane. The more and more life went on, the more I realized that this had to be reality and I had to deal with whatever I was facing, "I'm sorry. This isn't easy."

"Killing someone never is." He agreed solemnly.

I took that to mean that he had done this before.

I must have had a quizzical look on my face, because Bane said, "I've had to do a lot of things I'm not proud of to get where I am, Harley."

"So have I." I said miserably.

"That's depressing."

"You have no idea." I said wearily, "Let's just get on with this before I lose my cool."

"You mean you haven't yet?" he smirked slightly.

"Don't get smart with me, young man." I retorted, "Get the bag."

"Bossy," he muttered under his breath, and disappeared for a couple of minutes and then returned with a lawn and leaf bag that could have fit at least 3 of me in it. He kneeled down near the body, and when I didn't make a move, he looked up at me, "Would you mind helping me, your Highness?"

Something in me snapped just then.

"Then you can go fucking do it yourself, ass-hole! I can't fucking take any of this anymore! I might as well just pick up that gun and shoot myself in the head!" I said, shaking uncontrollably, "I can't deal with all of this shit! I just killed a man who only wanted to help me. Jesus Christ, I don't deserve to live! Everything has gone to shit and there's nothing I can do about it. All I wanted to do was leave this place and get back to my normal life – ha, great, I'm calling it normal – and just forget about all of this but no, no, no everything had to go to shit and I had to kill a person who had just confided me about his life and now I feel like a total horrible person. God damn it, I'm going to hell, Bane, that's for sure. God's going to be like 'look at this crazy bitch thinking she's going to get up here' and send me to Hell where I belong because I'm just so horrible. I'm so horrible!"

By this point I was curled up on the ground, sobbing and dry heaving because of obvious dehydration. I looked a hot mess, that's for damn sure.

Meanwhile, Bane kneeled down next to me, abandoning his body-stuffing project for a moment, "Um…Harley, that's a little drastic. I thought you'd have a thicker skin by now, considering your line of work."

"There's only so much a person can take, Bane!" I snapped, wiping my tears away forcefully and almost scratching my eyeballs in the process. I blinked at the now-forming burning sensation on my face, and then began laughing loudly and hysterically, "And now I scratched myself! AWESOME!"

At this point, Bane didn't even know what the hell to do, "It's going to be alright, Harley."

"Whatever," I said, hiccupping, "I hate everything."

"You were ok like two seconds ago. Did I say something wrong?"

"The 'your Highness' crack got me," I admitted, "The Joker always calls me 'Princess', and not in the nice way, either. It's because I was wealthy and he wasn't. He knows it totally gets to me, so he says it to piss me off, so I guess I just have a conditioned reaction. I just find it beyond irritating. I'm sorry for reacting like that."

"Ah, there's the psychologist I know." He smiled, and helped me up, "If you don't want to, I'll call my guards and have them do this. I don't want to upset you anymore."

"That would be great, thanks." I said, feeling relief wash over me.

Bane took my arm and steered me into the elevator. He made a quick call on his cell phone and hung up, "It's taken care of."

"Ok," I said, exhaling deeply, "This is a long motherfucking day already."

"It's about to get longer." He said, running a hand through his already tousled locks.

I turned to face him, "What do you mean?"

"Bruce Wayne is in my office waiting for me right now."


	9. His Crooked Way

**A/N: This chapter sort of took a lot out of me emotionally. I broke up with my ex in April, and I suppose the muses have been allowing me to write better. I fully believe that every experience in your life leads you to become better, and I'm sticking to that belief. Enjoy!  
**

Chapter 9: His Crooked Way

_I couldn't love a man so purely_

_Even darkness forgave his crooked way_

_I've learned love is like a brick you can_

_Build a house or sink a dead body_

_I'll bring him down, down, down_

"_Judas", Lady Gaga_

"Bruce is here…?" I asked, dazed, "When did he arrive?"

"20 minutes ago," Bane sighed, "God, I have a headache. I don't think you should come in the office with me. It might make him too upset."

"You can't tell me I can't see him. That's bullshit." I snapped, "Bruce is…"

Then I realized I had no idea what to call him. He wasn't my boyfriend, he wasn't my fiancé; he wasn't even exactly my friend right now. Clearly he cared enough to show up and fight for me, but so did the Joker. He sent his best guy on it and now he was…well, dead. Shit, I'm going to have a hard time explaining that to him later.

I digress.

"Bruce is…?" Bane waved in front of my face, "You blanked out there for a minute, Harley."

"I'm sorry. I have moments where I do that." I said sheepishly.

"Good to know," he said, raising his eyebrow skeptically.

"Shut up," I said irritably.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, and Bane moved aside to let me through. Before he could say anything, I sprinted down the hall and started shouting, "Bruce? Bruce, where are you?"

"Harley?"I heard a faint voice to my right. I ran toward it, still repeating his name. Finally, he appeared out of a door a few feet away from me and embraced me tightly, "Harley, my God."

"I need a fucking meal and soon." I groaned into his shoulder.

"We'll get you a meal, don't worry, babe." He said, stroking my back.

"Oh, Bruce…" I sighed in complete relief.

The touching moment was then broken by Bane barking, "Wayne, get your hands off of her!"

Bruce gripped me tighter, "Like I'd listen to a fucking psychopath. I didn't come here to negotiate with you, Bane. I came here to blow your brains out." He looked down at me, "Would that be alright with you?"

"I think you should hear him out first, Bruce," I said softly, "He's got something very important to tell you."

"He made you privy to that information?" Bruce merely looked curious, but didn't question me further, and turned to Bane, who was seething and looking even more exhausted than ever, "Fine, Mr. Bane – or whatever your name is – I'll hear you out for Harley's sake because she seems to have taken pity on you."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Wayne." Bane looked as if he was trying to hold back pure fury and the urge to strangle Bruce Wayne, "I appreciate that very much. Harley, would you care to join us?"

"I don't think I have much choice in that matter, do I?" I rolled my eyes, following the men into the office.

As we settled into the comfortable desk chairs, I noticed that Bane's office window overlooked the entire business district of Gotham, including Wayne Enterprises, whose shining 'W' symbol glinted in the afternoon sun. I felt uncomfortable sitting between these two powerful businessmen, who both were like panthers ready to strike each other at any moment.

Bruce calmly folded his hands in his lap, brushing some lint off of his expensive suit pants, "Well, Bane? What is this very important information I should be aware of? Is someone trying to blackmail me or my company?" He then leaned forward, asking with a slight smirk, "Or, more significantly, are _you_ trying to blackmail me or my company?"

"You're a rather direct man, Mr. Wayne." Bane said matter-of-factly, "I think you should be able to figure it out."

"So, what is it you want?" Bruce said smoothly, "Money? Women? Drugs? I have them all at my disposal, anything you could ever dream of."

I shot Bruce a dirty look, but he ignored me and continued, "I'm a very busy man, Bane. I need to know what I have to do to get you out of me and Harley's life, and now. I do not appreciate being told that the woman I love the most in the world is being starved and beaten. It doesn't exactly sit well with me. I'm sure you understand."

"I understand perfectly." Bane said coolly, "I don't have any need of prostitutes or cocaine. I'm not that kind of man. What we have here is purely a matter of blood."

"Blood?" Bruce asked, "I'm afraid I don't have any idea what you mean by that."

"Blood that runs in our veins, Mr. Wayne," Bane grinned, "Both yours and mine."

"Get to the point."

"It has recently come to my attention that your father, Dr. Thomas Wayne, spent a great deal of time in South America doing his intern work. Am I correct?"

"Yes." Bruce said curtly.

"Also, it has come to my attention that your father was quite the ladies man. Is this also correct?"

"I don't have a clue where you're going with this, but you are not allowed to go accusing my father of adultery. He never once cheated on my mother, if that's what you're asking." Bruce's eyes narrowed venomously, "So watch what you start accusing my father of in my presence."

Bane was hitting Bruce's weak spot, and he knew it, "Well, your father is allowed some vices."

"No one is without flaws, including my father. I want to know what you're getting at with this conversation – and soon – because you're really starting to piss me off."

"Alright, alright, I'll cut to the chase." Bane leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as if to block any incoming blows once this was revealed, "It is very possible that you and I might be brothers, Mr. Wayne."

I cast a surreptitious glance at Bruce, trying to gauge his reaction. He just sat there, staring at Bane, searching his eyes for any trace of a lie. When Bane continued to just watch him, I saw Bruce completely implode. His face went scarlet in rage, and he leaped out of the chair. He grabbed Bane, pinning him to the floor as he landed punch after punch on his face, "How – dare – you – call – yourself – my – brother!" he grunted with the effort in each blow.

Bane was pretty much powerless in that circumstance. After watching for a minute and having no idea what to do, I jumped up and pulled on Bruce's shoulder, "Get off of him! This isn't doing any good!"

"It's doing me good!" Bruce snapped, and lifted his arm to land another blow, but hesitated. I could tell Bane's nose was already and his cheekbones bruised. Blood ran down his nose and chin, and his eyes were squeezed shut, trying not to watch Bruce beat the shit out of him.

Bruce looked up at me, and exhaled deeply, "Fine. If my girl is telling me to stop, I have to oblige – lucky for you, Bane."

"Thanks, Harley," Bane choked out.

"No problem," I said awkwardly, helping Bruce up, "Let's get the hell out of here. I really don't want another person dead today."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "Harleen Maria Quinzel, what did you do?"

"I'll explain once you get me out of this hell-hole."

…

Bruce and I were curled up on his leather couch in the main living room, me with a cup of hot chocolate with little marshmallows in it (my favorite for a cold day) and Bruce with a large cup of steaming black coffee. He was immune to caffeine at this point; he mostly drank it for the taste, which was utterly disgusting in my girly, must have cream, sugar and caramel in it to make it worthwhile, mind. Bruce massaged the bottom of my foot gently, saying softly, "I was so worried about you."

"You and me both," I snorted derisively. I shifted uncomfortably, picking compulsively at his oversized t-shirt that I was in, considering my clothes were thrown out from how disgusting they had become over the past few days.

"Don't put up your walls again." He said tiredly, "I need to know what happened today."

I sat up a little straighter, putting my hot chocolate down on the side table, "Ok, so here's the deal. There was this guy who used to sit in front of my door and make sure I got food and water and went to the bathroom and all that stuff, ok? So then I wake up this morning and I'm like 'oh wait, where is Gerard?' and I open the door and boom! There he is, just freaking lying on the floor, bleeding from the head. I'm like 'holy shit' and suddenly Antoine comes around the corner looking all bad-ass and whatever like he usually does and I was like 'what?' and he was like 'just follow me, Miss Quinzel' –"

I'd like to point out that I attempted a gruff man voice at this juncture and Bruce almost spilled his coffee from laughing so hard; I glared at him and continued, "And then we got in the elevator and went down to the basement floor and there Bane was, waiting to get on the elevator. I was like 'oh no' because he tried to shoot Antoine and I jumped in front of him and then I kind of accidentally shot Antoine in the head." I finished all in one breath.

Bruce blinked hard a couple of times, trying to process all of this, "Wow, that's quite a day you've had."

I buried my face in my hands, "I feel awful, Bruce. I killed a man today and all I could think about was my fucking hot chocolate. I'm a sadistic bitch."

"You are not a sadistic bitch." He said soothingly, holding me as I sobbed into his chest, "Harley, you are one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate people I know. I would be very concerned if it didn't affect you this much. Plus, it was truly an accident; I guarantee that you would never hurt someone unless you absolutely had to. Sure, the Joker is going to be pretty pissed, but who the hell cares about him? You're safe with me now. Let's just focus on that for the time being, alright?"

I nodded, sniffling hard, "Alright."

He cupped his hand under my chin and lifted it up to face him, "I still care very deeply about you. You know that, right?"

"And I still do for you." I said, giving him a weary smile.

He kissed me then; not a passionate one, but rather a quiet, gentle one that let me know he was there for me. It was the affection I sorely needed right now. I kissed him back, pulling him into me and remembering all the happiness and joy I had felt when we were together. I remembered the endless possibilities we could have had together, the places we could go and the adventures that could be waiting on the horizon. Kissing him felt like pure freedom, not having a care in the world. I needed him now, more than ever.

Bruce's arms wrapped around me, stroking my back, hands crawling under my t-shirt and warming my chilled skin. He pulled me on top of him, running his hands all over me, kissing me like it was going to go on forever. He reached up and massaged my scalp, his fingers ensnared in my curls, and I moaned softly to let him know how much I loved when he did that. It was one of those things that he knew about me that no one else did. He knew where to touch me, the forgotten corners of me that I never thought someone would find.

"I have to have you." Bruce whispered in my ear.

"Please do," I replied urgently.

After some maneuvering and undressing on both of our parts, Bruce and I made love right there on his couch. For a moment, I forgot about how long the past few days had been, how hopeless I had felt. All that mattered was that Bruce was there with me, loving me.

"God, you're beautiful, Harley, so beautiful," he said breathlessly, kissing my neck as he moved on top of me.

"I love you, Bruce, I love you." I held onto him, lost in everything.

He paused for a second, "You do? You love me?"

I was beginning to regret those words, "You know I always have."

"I love you too," he couldn't keep himself from smiling. I hadn't seen him look this happy since the day he proposed to me. It broke my heart.

We lay together then, shiny with sweat and listening to nothing but the sounds of our own hearts racing. Bruce intertwined his fingers with mine, and kissed them, "Harley, I promise I'm going to keep you safe from these bad people who just want to hurt you. I've never been as angry as when they told me you were kidnapped outside my front door. I felt so helpless, and you know how well feeling helpless goes over with me."

I nodded, chuckling a little, "My manly man."

He gave me a crooked smile, "Yeah, that's me. You can ask Alfred; I didn't sleep or eat for days. I didn't know what to do with myself. I was trying to grapple with the fact that they might have tortured you, raped you, or worse. I was going out of my mind until Bane finally called and requested a meeting with me. He said he had some leverage that would help things along. I knew then that it had to be you."

"Leverage? He called me leverage? That fucker," I muttered.

Bruce laughed, and then grew serious, "He didn't, did he?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Did he rape you?"

I shook my head vehemently, "Oh no, no, no. He's not that type of guy at all. He pushed me around a little, but nothing I couldn't handle."

"He hit you?"

I could see Bruce's fury building up, and I immediately tried to alleviate the tension, "Well, he slapped me once, and one time he got pissed off because I called him a pussy and he tried to strangle me, but…"

"He did WHAT?" Bruce jumped up, "That's it! I'm going to kill that motherfucker!"

"Bruce, stop!" I cried, "Please don't!"

"Are you defending him?" Bruce asked in complete disbelief, "Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm not defending him!" I retorted indignantly, "I just think that you should calm down and think about this. This man could be your brother! How would you feel if you over-reacted and did something you could really regret? Think about it. Please."

Bruce put his hand against the wall, panting heavily, "Jesus Christ."

"I know that this came as a complete shock to you, Bruce, but you need to deal with the consequences. You over-reacted today, and you know it. Bane didn't even say that he was actually your brother; he just said that there was a possibility and you freaked out. Why? Is he like the most horrible person in the world to be your brother? Yeah, he's got issues and everything but if he actually is your brother, then you're going to have to treat him that way." I drew my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them, "I know I'm not exactly the right person to be talking about this considering my penchant for being attracted to men who are horribly wrong for me."

Bruce smiled slightly, "You think I'm horribly wrong for you?"

"You know who I mean." I said with a dead-pan expression.

Bruce sat on the edge of the sofa, kissing my forehead, "I know, Harley, and I've forgiven you for all of that. I just don't know why you keep going back to him, no matter what he does to you."

"I wish I knew why." I rolled my eyes skyward, "Believe me, I wish I knew."

"I'm scared to take you back." Bruce admitted, "I've let my guard down twice before with you and then you rejected me."

"I'm not saying you had to take me back." I said, a little bothered by the statement, "I think we're both true masochists. We don't know what's good for us."

"I know what's good for me, and that's you." He shrugged, "Whether you choose to reciprocate my feelings is up to you. I don't have any control over you; that much is obvious."

A smirk played across my lips, "I thought you liked that about me."

"It's a generally endearing trait." He kissed me, "Come on, let's go to bed. We've had a long day."

I stood up, and let him take my hand.


	10. Tell Me Who to Be

**A/N: Ah ha...it broke my heart to write this chapter, but I felt it needed to be done. My inner angst and recent parting of ways really brought me to this state of mind and allowed the writing muses to provide me this. I'm actually pretty proud of the last couple chapters and their emotional content. Thank you guys so much for reading; it is just amazing to me that people want to read my stuff! R&R!  
**

Chapter 10: Tell Me Who to Be

_Who cares if you disagree?_

_You are not me_

_Who made you king of anything?_

_How dare you tell me who to be?_

_Who died and made you king of anything?_

"_King of Anything," Sara Bareilles _

Waking up next to Bruce was a familiar habit that I never had been willing to break. He was just so utterly reassuring and safe, warm and comfortable, this unyielding constant in my life. The only problem with Bruce is that he left me wanting more out of it than I could possibly get. I felt antsy when I was with him; restless and unsatisfied every time with the result. I knew deep in my heart how much I was fucking with him, but I pushed those nagging thoughts down so far that it hurt sometimes. I knew I couldn't hurt him again. If I turned him down this time, there would never be another time. I wanted closure out of this whole scenario, and all I did was screw it up even more like an idiot, like I always do. Bruce and I seemed to fall in this vicious cycle of love and hate and confusion and lust and so many other goddamn things that I couldn't even put into words. It was unhealthy. I'm a fucking psychologist; I should be more wary of this shit.

Then there are moments like…like when he smiles in his sleep and he's holding onto me like I'm the last lifeboat on a ship, that I see how truly wonderful, how good he is. He's too good for me. That was the best way to sum it up, really. I'm a semi-hardened criminal with a psychotic former lover and making all the wrong moves in all the wrong places. I'm just not nearly good enough for him. That's a clear indication of why this whole relationship didn't work. Stupid inferiority complex. Thanks a lot, ass-hole.

Yes, I realized I just called my own subconscious an ass-hole. I'm working on talking to myself, too. That's a whole other issue that's taking a back seat to my masochism.

While I was deep in thought, Bruce had long since woken up and was groggily staring up at me, "It's too early to look that pensive."

Startled, I jumped slightly, "You scared me! I thought you were dead asleep over there."

"Looks like I fooled you." He smiled, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, adjusting his body position in the bed to get more comfortable, "What were you thinking about, babe?"

I couldn't necessarily tell him the truth. I would just have to spin it a little for now, even though I'm going to hate myself.

"Oh, just…wondering if this whole sleeping together thing was the best idea." It was mostly accurate; give me some credit.

"Why is that?" he didn't sound angry, merely interested in the notion.

"I know we aren't exactly in the right place right now with this relationship –" Dare I even call it that? "- and I just think that sex tends to…complicate things, you know?"

"It usually does, yeah," Bruce agreed, shrugging nonchalantly, "But sometimes sex is just sex, right?"

"I don't think that's the case here."

"I was kidding." Bruce said, raising an eyebrow, "Geez, you're so serious, Harley."

"The nature of me and you is a serious thing." I frowned, "I've been thinking about calling him."

Bruce's eyes darkened, "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Just to let him know that I'm ok," It sounded pretty idiotic as I said it, to tell you the truth, but I kept vomiting words anyway, "I mean, I did live with him and he does get concerned about me, you know, and he did send his best guy after me – which kind of reminds me, I might need to explain that one too – and I just…I just feel like he should know."

"I tried to follow your logic, but I got lost somewhere in there." Bruce blinked in bewilderment.

"That seems to happen a lot," I flushed, "But, what do you think?"

"I think you should leave him alone and he should leave you alone. You two are terrible for each other. He thinks that you're always going to keep running back to him, because…well, you kind of do, and he's clearly still in love with you."

"I know he is." I said matter-of-factly, "He reminds me of that fact frequently."

"Well, that makes me severely uncomfortable…"

"Jesus, Bruce, he's an ass. He does it just to piss me off. He doesn't even mean it." I said dismissively, "I think I know him better than you do."

"That may be true, but I hate feeling like I'm vying for your affections." Bruce sighed, exasperated, crushing the pillow against his chest, "It feels like a young person's game."

"Because you're so old," I teased.

"I'm 30, and you're approaching that age rapidly, Harley. It's time for a reality check. You can't keep following him around and making nothing out of your life. Don't you want to settle down with someone, get married and have children? You said that's what you wanted. It's time for a reality check."

"Bah, reality," I grimaced.

"See, there you go, fucking denying the existence of a problem again! Don't you see what you're doing to yourself? The further you get away from him, the closer you want to be. It's a dangerous pattern." Bruce's eyebrows furrowed in worry, "I would hate to see you throw your life away to be with that…clown."

"He's not a clown!" I snapped, "He's a person, by the way; a person who has been through a whole hell of a lot more than you have!"

"Are you seriously defending him? This has to be a fucking joke." He stood up, "If all you're going to do is talk about your emotionally abusive relationship, then I suggest you get out of my house and go home to the man who clearly deserves your attention more than this man who is standing in front of you, asking you to just choose him and make all of your troubles go away!" Bruce stalked out of the bedroom, still naked from last night's encounter. After a moment, he stepped back in the room, snatched his robe from the bedpost, and disappeared again.

At this point, I was too angry to cry over it. I quietly got dressed, and thought about my situation. In a way, Bruce was right. I did have to stop defending the Joker; he hasn't done any good for me. At the same time, I still felt connected to him. I knew how ridiculous it seemed to everyone around me, but in my mind, somehow we made sense. Somehow, in some strange, masochistic way, we made sense. Being with Bruce would be like completely avoiding my problems instead of facing them head-on like I felt it was best to do. Was I delusional or something? Bruce was great, truly great. He loved me despite the many, many flaws I had, and was willing to accept the past.

I, however, was not. I knew that my mind worked in mysterious ways sometimes, and that leaving Bruce at the altar was the right decision. I was utterly terrified of marrying him – actually, marrying anyone for that matter. I didn't know how to be tied to somebody. I think I let that go a long time ago. Too many men had hurt me before, and I wasn't exactly about to let that happen again. I hurt Bruce more than I've hurt anyone else in my life, and I felt like what I did was totally unforgivable. I should probably just walk out now before it gets even more complicated.

God damn hormones, ruining everything.

I padded softly across the Persian rug in Bruce's study, and found him sitting in his armchair, staring out the window with his hand resting on his chin. It was a position I had found him in many times before; he was thinking very hard about something.

"I think I should go." I said, my voice feeling loud against the silence of the room.

"You don't need to go." He didn't even look at me, "Where would you even go?"

"I didn't think it through that far."

"If it means going back to him, then you may as well never come back. I can't deal with the emotional stress of this anymore, Harley. I am recovering from a gunshot wound that may well have been your dear roommate, and now I might have this step-brother that has been hidden from me for my entire life. It's a lot to think about." Bruce slumped slightly in his chair, and I saw him grip at his ribs, grunting a little in pain.

"Bruce, I have no idea who shot you. The J – I mean, he – says it wasn't him, and it wasn't anybody hired by him. I believe him. He's not in denial about what we are to each other."

"And what is that, Harley? What is that? I'm just DYING to know!" Bruce shouted, jumping up and almost knocking his desk chair over in the process, "I just can't quite seem to figure out what the hell you see in that fucker! All he does is use and abuse you and you just keep going back, going back and putting yourself in harm's way just to make him happy! What have I done to you? All I've ever wanted is to give you the life you deserve! I wanted to marry you, for Christ sakes! I let you in, and you betrayed me!"

"Bruce, I…" I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Let me finish!" he interjected shortly, "I gave you all I had, and I'm willing to open myself up to you again. Here's the thing, though – the Joker cannot be involved in your life ever again. I mean it. You cannot talk to him, see him, or even mention him in my presence ever again. Either you promise me that or you walk out now and never come back. It's your choice."

"…I love you." I whispered, hanging my head dejectedly.

"What does that even mean? You love me so much, yet you've rejected me twice and made me look like a colossal ass-hole! You rejected me on our own fucking wedding day! Did you stop to think how that would make me feel?"

"I thought about it every day." I said gently, trying to quell his rage, "I got scared, Bruce. Marriage is a big step, especially for me. I freaked out."

"What are you so worried about? I am going to give you a life that you could only dream of! What could he possibly have to offer you? I just don't understand what's going on in your head. The person I met 2 years ago was a little misguided but knew she needed to get out of that bad situation. What changed your mind about me? I just want to know." Bruce was beginning to calm down a little now, but I could see the pure agony etched in his tired eyes.

"Nothing you did changed my mind." I said, "Honestly, I am just terrified of being tied down. I've been on my own for so long, and I'm used to dealing with problems on my own. I've only depended on myself, and it's hard to let go of that control."

"I'm the same way, Harley, but I still want companionship, someone to be the mother of my children. If you don't want to be that person, then please tell me so I can move on. I'm tired of playing these games with you. I love you, but enough is enough. If you promise me that you will never have anything to do with the Joker again, I will book us our plane tickets right now and we will go wherever you want. We'll get away from everything and we'll never come back. We can lie on the beach and forget about this whole piece of shit town." Bruce leaned back against the desk, "This discussion is exhausting me. What do you want to do?"

I stood there, paralyzed with the idea of walking away from everything I knew, with the fact that if I let him go, it would be the end of us. Leaving him seemed unbearable, unfathomable, but it was entirely possible. My insides were churning; I felt nauseous. I wanted him to give me more time, to let me know everything would be alright in the end. Yet…I knew it wouldn't. He was too angry now, too upset for that to ever happen.

How did it come to this? A split-second decision made after such a beautiful romance. I remembered how much I had loved him, how much I wanted to see him smile and hear his laugh. I wanted to cuddle with him while we watched movies, watch him attempt to cook me dinner, fail miserably and then laugh at him as he ordered Chinese takeout, and above all, see the joy in his eyes when he looked at me. That feeling was gone; his light had burned out. He looked at me as if I was some ghost of myself, haunting him and reminding him of a time that would never come again.

What if I regretted my decision? What if running away from it all wasn't the answer?

"I can't." I said, scarcely believing the words as they flew from my mouth.

"What?" he asked after a beat of silence.

"I can't, Bruce." I shook my head vehemently, trying fervently to stop the oncoming tears, "I am so, so sorry."

He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, and finally said with narrowed eyes, "Fine. Go home and fuck the clown. See if I give a shit."

I fell to my knees on the floor, hysterically sobbing, "You don't even know how sorry I am, you don't even know! This was never what I wanted!"

"Get out of my house." He said curtly, "Get out before I throw you out. I never want to see you again."

"Bruce, please…"

"GET OUT!" he yelled.

I took that as my cue to run from the room, and by instinct, I made it to the front door. I threw it open and slammed it shut, almost stumbling down the driveway until I was almost a block away. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had just thrown the man who loved me away. I knew in my heart it was the right decision, but why did it have to hurt so damn much?

…

I caught two cabs back to the apartment after managing to find the local bank chain I used, and by the grace of God remembering my bank account number so I could withdraw funds for the aforementioned cabs. I took the familiar bumpy, disgusting elevator ride and stood at the apartment door for a minute or two before realizing I was being an idiot, and just knocked on the door.

"It's open." I heard his irritated voice say, "And it had better be good…"

His voice trailed off as I stood in the doorway, "…news."

He looked like hell.

He sat there on our worn-down, puce-green couch with a near empty bottle of scotch, looking just as pathetic and dilapidated as the furniture. He glanced up at me, bleary-eyed in the combination of grief and intoxication, "I should kill you where you stand, making me worry like that."

"I suppose I'd deserve it." I said quietly.

"You know as well as I do that you're my one true weakness, Harley." He said, draining his tumbler. He stood up, swaying slightly, losing his equilibrium, "As much as I hate to admit, I love the hell out of you."

"You're drunk." I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's true," he said, smiling half-heartedly, "But those words must mean something to you."

"They do." I sighed, "I left Bruce for good. It's over between us."

"I respect the man." He said, much to my absolute shock, "I must have been a damn fool waiting around for you to decide. Wayne is a whole hell of a lot smarter than I'll ever be, dumping you on your ass." He toasted his glass toward Wayne Enterprises, looming in the window, "To Bruce Wayne, genius among us mere mortals!"

"Stop it!" I snapped, "You think I'm not upset about what I've done, about how I've treated both of you in the past? Isn't that enough for you?"

He turned to face me, all jokes cast aside, "Yes, actually, it is enough."

I looked up through my humiliation, "Really?"

"Yes," he paced the floor, silent for a few immeasurable moments, "Harley, no matter how fucking horrible you treat me, I never stop feeling love for you. I see your face, your beautiful, stubborn little face…the weariness behind your eyes and the tension in your every move. I know I've caused all of that and what you have become. I created the monster that is Harley Quinn, and you know what?" He leaned in close to me; put my face in his hands, "We can be monsters together."

I searched his eyes for a moment, smiling for the first time all day, and I finally said, "Your breath smells like booze."

I think he knew that meant I loved him, too.


	11. Find Myself

**A/N: Long time in-between chapters, I apologize. I love Harley and Pam together so this chapter is mostly focusing on them. And a little intro to the new things I am planning for Part 5, which will be entitled "Fill Me with Your Poison". It's a bit of ways away, but I was feeling creative. Enjoy, review, do whatever. Just know I love my readers!  
**

Chapter 11: Find Myself

_I thought if I could touch this place or feel it_

_This brokenness inside me might start healing_

_Out here it's like I'm someone else_

_I thought that maybe I could find myself_

_If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave_

"_The House that Built Me," Miranda Lambert _

In a weird way, it felt nice to be back in our apartment. Obviously, it was a welcome change considering the rather dire living situation I had been in before. After we had our moment of revelation of the feelings shared between us, he got down to the point, "Ok, so I didn't exactly question you about how you got here."

We were curled up on the couch, both of us with a cup of watered-down coffee in our hands. The Joker was starting to sober up a little.

"Where do I even begin?" I exhaled audibly, "I guess I should warn you before I start telling you all the details that there are going to be moments of this that you won't like."

"Harley, honest to God, I'm just happy that you're alive." He said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, "Just start from what you remember."

"Well, I went to Bruce's –" I glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but he continued watching me, "And we talked about a few things, and then I went to walk out his door, someone hit me and I blacked out. When I came to, Bane was slapping me in the face and demanding questions of me. I basically told him to fuck off."

"That's my girl." He said proudly.

I smiled a little, "Thanks. Anyway, Bane got frustrated, so he had put me in some dingy, dinky room with nothing but a bed and a chair. Disgusting, may I add. Anyway, he tried to get stuff out of me about you and Bruce, but I wasn't exactly having it. He tried to strangle me."

I could feel his body go completely tense, and I halted, "Woah, woah, don't start with that."

He clenched his fists tightly, releasing them slowly, "I'm fine. Just swallowing my rage."

"I know, but you need to calm down, ok? At least until I finish the story?"

"Fine." He mumbled.

"I told him off for that, too, by the way. I was in a rather sassy mood the entire time I was there. So then he was kind of starving me, too, so I complained and he finally gave me food. I didn't even take a shower or anything. I felt like a disgusting fuck." I shuddered in revulsion, "Ok, so then that's where you came in. I was actually starting to get somewhere with Bane, which I'll get to in a minute. Antoine rescued me at that point."

"I heard he's dead." He said matter-of-factly, "I take it you know what happened there."

"Yeah, um…about that…" I didn't meet his eye.

"Did you kill him?" he asked directly.

"Yeah…" I could feel my face burning under his stare, "It was an accident. I tried to wrestle the gun away from Bane and it went off. It killed him. I'm so, so sorry. You don't even know how upset and guilty I feel about it."

"Harley, if it was an accident, I understand. I knew you wouldn't intentionally kill Antoine. He was a good guy. A solid bodyguard is hard to find these days." The Joker shrugged, "I'm done mourning the loss. Continue."

"Bane told me Bruce was there. They got in a rather horrible altercation and Bruce and I left."

"Why did they get in this rather horrible altercation?"

"Because Bane might be Bruce's stepbrother," I groaned, "It's all so fucking complicated."

"Yeah, I can see where they might be." He admitted, "I take it Wayne wasn't pleased?"

"No, he beat the ever-loving crap out of him."

"Not my style, but hey, I gotta give him credit where it's due." He grinned.

I smacked his shoulder, "Not the point! Bruce could have killed him."

"And you care why?"

That was a good question.

"Uh…"

"That's a very specific answer."

I glared at him.

"That's the Harley I missed so dearly." I actually saw a look of complete fondness cross his face, and suddenly he leaned over and kissed me.

It was the first time we had kissed in…God, I couldn't even remember how long. It didn't feel strange or anything, just a little confusing. I knew he loved me, and he meant that, but how could he still love me despite all the shit I'd put him through? It was silly of me to think about it, but I couldn't help it crossing my mind.

He pulled away, "I think I lost you there."

"I'm sorry. It's just too soon for all this affection. I've barely even had time to get over Bruce." I admitted, "I want to enjoy kissing you, but right now it's just too hard."

"Damn Wayne, cock-blocking me for the last 2 years," He grumbled, "He's still doing it posthumously."

I smiled, amused, "You mean post-breakup?"

"It's the same thing."

"If you're comparing our breakup to death, then ours must be a goddamn zombie." I rolled my eyes, "No matter how many times it got shot in the head, it still came back wanting more."

He raised an eyebrow at me, and then began laughing hysterically, "You seriously just compared our relationship a zombie?"

I flushed, "It seemed like a lucid thought in my head, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You seem to not know how to keep certain thoughts to yourself, Harley." He shook his head, still chuckling, "Man, I've missed your insanity."

"Pot –" I gestured at him, and then at myself, "Kettle. I think I've made my point."

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, Miss Quinzel." He shrugged, "Maybe you should listen to that advice."

"I did this time." I said shortly, "And I got burned more than ever before because I hurt a person I really cared about, and right when he needed me, too."

"He doesn't need you to take care of his problems. Don't feel any sort of obligation to him after this point, do you hear me?" he demanded. I stared stubbornly at our broken television, and he repeated himself, "Do you hear me, Harley?"

"Yes, I hear you. I just don't want to accept that he doesn't want me in his life anymore. I guess I always knew it would end like this…that I would break his heart." I sighed deeply, and rubbed my aching temples with my hand, "I hate being emotionally compromised like this."

"I think you're missing a very important point here." The Joker said quietly.

I looked up, searching his eyes for some sort of answer, and when I gave him about as vapid a look as I could muster, he threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "There was a person who cared about you this whole fucking time, you know! And you may have broken his heart, in case you give a shit!" He then stood up and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

I sat there, stunned for a moment, and then ran toward the door. I opened it and yelled into the hallway, "Quit throwing a temper tantrum! You know I give a shit about you! Get back here!"

"I'm leaving!" he shouted back, "I'll be back later when I'm not so pissed off at you!"

"How much later?"

"None of your goddamn business!"

"GOD I HATE YOU!" I screamed, and promptly closed the door, locking it.

Seriously? He really needed to do this right now? Just…SERIOUSLY. I hated when he cloaked his other vulnerable emotions in anger. It had sort of always been his problem, communicating his true feelings and attributing the right actions to them. He confused the hell out of me, and somehow I still missed him, and hated that we fought all the time like this. One moment he was all mushy-gushy and almost romantic, and then in a split second he turned into an unusually hormonal teenager. And unfortunately for the world, his hormones made him go on criminal binges that generally left things in Gotham in a state of disarray.

As I sat down on the couch and vowed not to let myself be bothered by his stupid antics, I glanced at the table and realized that he left his cell phone on the table. It suddenly occurred to me then that Pam was probably flipping shit right now, worrying about my disappearance. I picked up the phone and dialed the number,

"Hello, 5th Avenue Hilton. How may I direct your call?"

Pam always liked to be in the lap of luxury, "Penthouse B, please."

"One moment, please."

The phone rang two times before a deep female voice picked up, "Hello?"

"Pam?"

"HARLEY YOU BITCH WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?" she screamed. I pulled the phone away from my ear and could still hear her perfectly, "My ass has been looking for you everywhere! I thought you were fucking dead in a ditch somewhere! Do you even know how worried I've been? Where the fuck are you?"

"I'm at his place." I said vaguely. I was always worried about the city tapping this phone.

"I'll be there in a couple minutes." She then hung up.

Pam was true to her word. She nearly broke the door down when she knocked on it. I opened the door, and she thrust herself at me. I was no match for her superior strength.

She held onto me tightly, "Don't ever fucking disappear on me again! I don't think I've slept in days!"

"Well, it's ok, Pam, I'm back now." I said, patting her back, and realized she was crying, "Hey, hey, you're going to get my shirt all wet."

"Seriously?" she pulled back, wiping at her eyes fiercely, "Harley, I was freaking out. I thought you were dead. We both thought you were."

"I know," I immediately regretted saying that to her; Pam was not exactly one to show emotion…ever. I, on the other hand, was an emotional disaster, "I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to discourage you from getting upset. I'm just really over talking about. A lot has gone down in the past couple of days."

"Tell me about it." Generally, what most would perceive as a suggestion was a command in Pam's world. She glanced around, "Where is the man?"

"God, don't even ask." I groaned.

Once I explained the whole spiel to her, she grimaced, "Shit, babe, that is definitely a lot to go through…are you alright?"

"As alright as I can be, I guess." I shrugged, "I just keep feeling like Bruce is going to talk to me again, like everything was going to be like it was before. I know that it's different this time. He was just so pissed at me. I really don't think he's ever going to forgive me for this. I also feel like shit because I was sort of ignoring the fact that Mr. J really cares about me, and I took it for granted. Then again, we've always had this dynamic between us."

"Maybe you guys should just fuck." Pam said without so much as blinking.

"Yeah, um, not going to happen right now." I raised my eyebrow, "I'm already feeling so wrecked over Bruce…I don't want to add to any more misery on my part and lead him on in any way."

"Well, don't you like him?"

"You know as well as I do how complicated we are, Pamela." I glared at her, "You're not usually this involved in my love life. What's going on?"

"Nothing, really," she said, averting my eyes, "It's just…you should have seen how he was when you disappeared. He called me at first, thinking I was with you and you had ditched him again to stay at my place or something as usual. When I said I hadn't heard from you, he sounded really freaked. He sent out his lackeys to look all around Gotham for you, and when you didn't turn up, he did something he didn't want to do."

"What do you mean?" I was curious.

"He probably will never tell you this, and he swore me to secrecy, but for the good of the cause, I think you should know."

"What happened, Pam?" I was starting to get irritated.

"Jesus, keep your shirt on," she rolled her eyes. I ignored the supreme awkwardness of that comment and let her keep talking. She took a deep breath and said, "He went to see Bruce."

Ok, so I didn't see that coming.

"Are you serious?" I asked in a hushed tone, "He would rather bite off his own dick."

"I know. That's why I am telling you. He figured that since you had been seeing Bruce again, you were just staying over there and not talking to him to punish him or something – ok, seriously you two need therapy, Harley, just gotta say that – and Bruce almost beat the shit out of him but he explained what was going on, and Bruce agreed on a temporary truce with him for your sake. Bruce was the one who figured out where you were, and they teamed up to get you out of there. The Joker sent Antoine and Bruce went there himself. Obviously, Antoine getting killed was a minor setback but they anticipated something like that happening; Bruce knew that showing up would throw Bane off. Bruce was supposed to call the Joker and let him know what happened, but he clearly went back on that part of the deal. Thankfully, the Joker had spies outside of Wayne Manor and they saw you come home with him, and the Joker waited until things exploded between you and Bruce."

"Wow, he certainly can predict the future." I said bitterly.

"You're better with the Joker, anyway." She said dismissively, "Bruce is an ass, and I'm not just saying that because he dumped you. He's incredibly stupid for dumping you, but at the same time, you guys weren't right for each other. You were on opposite sides moral sides of the spectrum, literally good and evil. It never mixes."

"I guess I always thought that we'd figure a way around it." I said wistfully, "After I considered it, I realized how fucking dumb I was to think that we'd ever be on the right page, that he would ever accept my friendship with the Joker and the feelings I have for him."

"Feelings…?" Pam leaned forward, "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, don't get all excited." I snapped, aggravated, "I still don't know where I am with that and I won't be for a while. He's going to have to accept it if he wants me to stay. I like him…I could potentially love him again. He just needs to stop acting like a fucking crazy ass-hole and figure out his own emotions, too."

"You have a degree in psychology, Harley, I think you can help him with that." Pam smirked, "What did you go to 8 years of college for?"

"Apparently to run off with a psychopath. Yup, exactly what they wanted me to do." I shook my head in disbelief, "I guess I should retrieve some of that knowledge and use it to my advantage."

"Good plan," Pamela grinned, "God, I'm just so happy you're ok. You're my best friend, and I don't know what I'd do without you."

I embraced her, "Pam, you're my best friend, too. I'm sorry for scaring you. I guess I just couldn't help being kidnapped, you know."

"Yeah, well, there's that." Pam laughed, releasing me, "Do you want to get something to eat? I'm starving."

"Sure, sounds good," I said, standing up, and then realized something, "Oh right, I don't have a wallet because they took it. Sons of bitches."

"I'll pay."

"Then we're good to go."

…

Pam and I slid into a booth at our usual coffee place, and ordered.

"So, Pam, you want to tell me what he's up to?" I asked, stirring my latte.

"I don't know who you are referring to," Pam said innocently.

I gave her a stern look, and she sighed, "Honestly, I don't know. He's been talking about meeting with the mob bosses again last I heard. I don't really communicate with him unless you're involved."

I groaned, "I don't understand why he thinks it's a good idea to keep fucking with the gangsters. It's going to get him in trouble."

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Pam said.

"Are you waxing philosophical today?" I smirked.

"It's true, and you know it." She raised an eyebrow, "I believe some of your actions fall under that category, Harleen."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said dismissively, "Whatever, let's not talk about him right now. It gives me a migraine. What have you been up to?"

"Other than worrying about you…I'm working on a new little toxin recipe." She said, shrugging, "It's a slow and steady process, but I think I've almost perfected it."

Pamela had been a biology major at Harvard, so this all made sense to me. She had talked for the past 6 months about creating this love toxin that would have the same effect as laughing gas. Mostly it was so that people could be distracted when she was robbing a bank or something.

"That's good news." I said, "It's been taking up a lot of your time."

"Yeah, any time I'm not with you, that is what I'm doing." Pam looked around surreptitiously, and then leaned forward, "I've been hatching a little plan."

"And what is this little plan?"

"I think you should ditch Mr. J for a bit and do some stuff with me."

I knew what she meant by 'stuff', "You mean, join forces."

"Mmhmm," she said, "And I've got someone interested in the plan."

I was intrigued, "Oh, really? Anyone I know?"

"Yeah, I think you know her."

"Oh it's a her, then." I wiggled my eyebrows.

"She's not my girlfriend or anything." Pam rolled her eyes, "I wish."

"Can you just tell me who it is?"

"Jesus, calm down. It's Selina Kyle."

"Oh come on Pam…" I put my head in my hands, "Not fucking Selina Kyle."

"What's wrong with her? She'd be a valuable asset to the team."

"You're more interested in looking at her ass than her asset." I was really secretly proud of this remark. I was learning some good things from the Joker.

"Ha…ha…ha, so funny I forgot to motherfucking laugh." Pam scowled, "She's a really nice person if you'd get to know her."

"She's a crazy cat lady."

"She's that among other things."

"You just like women in leather."

"That I do," Pam said dreamily.

"I think we'd better end this conversation. That older gentleman is basically panting over you right now." I glanced in the aforementioned man's general direction.

Pamela merely made eye contact with the man, and gave him a winning smile. He literally blushed and looked away as fast as he could.

"See? I intimidate them. This is why I'm a lesbian. They're not scared of me." Pam pouted, "But back to the matter at hand, can't you at least talk to her? Get to know her a bit. For me?"

"What makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

"Because you love me," she winked.

"False."

"Because you call me your best friend," she corrected.

"That's slightly more accurate."

"Oh come on, Harley, she's got a lot to offer the team. Think about it. Three sexy, awesome women taking over Gotham…I see it. It will be legendary." If we were cartoons, Pam would have stars in her eyes.

"As legendary as it sounds, Pam, I'm still skeptical."

"You're always skeptical. Skeptical Sue."

"You just made that up."

"That's neither here nor there." She drained the rest of her coffee, "The point is that this could potentially rock the shit out of this town. You can't deny it."

"No, I can't." I admitted, "Alright, I will meet her. Set it up. I'm not making any promises, though."

"YAY!" Pam grinned, "I'm so excited!"

Pamela Isley plus the word 'yay' equals a very terrified Harley Quinzel.

"Since when have we become the peppy types? I thought I'd never live to see the day." I shook my head in disbelief.

"I'm going to call her right now!" Pam pulled out her cell.

"Really, Pam? The nefarious Poison Ivy is going to call the reprehensible Catwoman in the middle of a coffee shop?"

"You used all the big words in your vocabulary there, didn't you, sweetie?"

"I hate you."


	12. Dysfunction

**A/N: A lot of schtuff happens in this chap. Loving it. The muses are smiling or more like grinning. WOOP. Don't own these characters just all their thoughts and emotions that I find time to write.  
**

Chapter 12: Dysfunction

_We're stuck on this dysfunction_

_We love it to our death_

_We celebrate distraction_

_By lighting up this bed_

"_August 28__th__, 3:30 AM," Automatic Loveletter _

After Pam had dropped me off, I entered the apartment and saw him sitting there on the couch, arms folded against his chest like a petulant child who had just been put in timeout.

He didn't look at me as I came in. I closed the door behind me, and put my jacket on the kitchen chair. I said, as cheery as I could be, "Hey."

What I received was cold silence.

"Ok, seriously, we're going to do this right now?" I sighed, exasperated. I kicked off my shoes, and sat on the coffee table, facing him, "Do you want to use your words to explain how you're feeling? I feel like a fucking kindergarten teacher."

"Where were you?"

"With Pam," I said, "What did you expect?"

"No phone call." He said curtly.

"I don't have a cell phone anymore, thanks to Bane."

"I'll get you a new one."

"Thanks," I said awkwardly, "So, Pam tells me that you're working on a new project."

"That's none of her business."

"Yeah, well, she made it her business." I shrugged, "She's got some crackpot plan to start a 'Gotham Girls' sitcom or something."

"What the hell are you talking about?" For the first time in the conversation, he didn't say this in a monotone.

"She wants to create an all-girls crime syndicate, me, her, and Selina Kyle."

The Joker snorted derisively, "Wow, if there is a worse idea in the world, I'd like to hear it."

"It's not that bad." I said reproachfully.

"The pussy doesn't want to work with you two idiots. She does pretty good alone."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't call her 'the pussy'." I said, wrinkling my nose in disgust, "Plus how do you know? Have you even met her?"

"Yes, I have met her." He smiled a little, "She's a character."

"Pam seems interested in what she could do." I said.

"That's because Pam likes any woman in leather."

"That is very true – as disturbing as that is – but beside the point. I told Pam I'd agree to meet her and see if we'd get along." I bit my lip, "I just have a bad feeling about it."

"Why is that?" he leaned forward, putting a hand on my leg. We were making progress; touching was now involved in the conversation and that was a good sign.

"Eh, I just think she's not very trustworthy. She seems pretty flighty, in my opinion, and arrogant as all hell from what I've seen from the news."

"You can't always trust the media. They paint you as a blonde, ditzy psychiatrist who ran away with a madman." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Which we all know is NOT true!"

"Oh, I know. I don't consider myself a madman."

I lifted my hand to smack his arm again, and he grabbed my wrist before I could. He stared at me for a moment, and smiled. He then pulled me forward and kissed me. It was a gripping, I-want-you-right-now sort of kiss.

"Mr. J…" I said softly.

"Please, Harley, I've waited long enough for this. Finally, I have you to myself again. I don't have to deal with a fiancé, Bruce Wayne, or – the strangest of all – your lesbian best friend. I think it's not too much to ask to let me show you how much I love you."

I searched his eyes for sincerity; I knew I'd never really find it, but I knew in my heart that these words were the closest I'd heard to the real deal.

"That's really sweet, but…"

"Why does there have to be a 'but'?" he groaned, exasperated, "There's always a 'but' with you!"

"I'm scared." I admitted, "What will this mean?"

"I think we should just try it and find out."

"I think you're just horny."

"There's that, too, yes." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Can't lie about that."

"I just don't know if I can trust you again. Five minutes ago you were pissed off beyond belief and now you're all lovey-dovey and it's a bit disconcerting." I said, grasping his hand tightly, "I really do want to believe that you won't hurt me again, but I just can't right now."

"Well, I do know that your shying away from intimacy is because of what I've done in the past." He stood up, "Excuse me for a minute."

He went into the bathroom and was in there for at least 10 minutes. When he came back out, his face was scrubbed of all the makeup and the dye was washed out of his hair. I could still see a few traces of the curly blonde ends, but I had to smile a little. He had begun to show me his real face more and more often since we had lived together and it never ceased to amaze me at how handsome he was. I didn't even mind the scars. They were just an integral part of his appearance.

He sat down on the couch, "It is a bit hard to trust me with that make-up on."

"True."

"Now, Harley, look at me."

I did, and for the first time, I saw a look of such desperation in his eyes. He really wanted me to love him again. I couldn't help feeling a bit nostalgic for the time when this was new, when there wasn't so much bad blood between us. Every day I had spent with him after knowing that he caused the demise of so many people I had loved felt like a stab in the chest. I felt like my departed loved ones were punishing me for basically consorting with the devil. But, I hadn't had any nightmares lately, no visions of Maggie or alternate Harley, which had been making my nights a whole lot more restful. Maybe their absence was a sign that I could move on from my past and possibly make him my present. It terrified me that I could be thinking this, but it seemed inevitable that I would yet again fall under his spell. What was I going to do?

"Harley, you zoned out."

"Oh, geez, sorry!" I said, startled, "You know how I get lost in my thoughts."

"Yeah, that lovable sort of quirkiness you possess only makes me want you more."

"Don't be crude."

"Aw, I thought that was part of my charm." He hung his head, feigning dejection.

"Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that, bud."

"You're just so damn mean."

"I thought that was part of my charm." I said ironically.

"Ah, clever woman. I can forgive you because you keep up with me." He grinned.

"I want to know what you think about the whole Selina thing." I said, annoyed at the 360-degree turn our conversation took.

"I told you what I think." He sighed, clearly exasperated, "Pam just wants Selina involved because she wants a new friend to fuck around with."

"I'm pretty sure Selina is straight." I said, rolling my eyes, "So Pam is sorely mistaken in that respect."

"I think Selina will sleep with anything that moves and has functioning genitalia, to be honest." He shrugged, "Rumor has it she slept with the Batman not that long ago."

"What?" I asked, dazed, "That can't be right."

"As I said, it's a rumor. What do you care, anyway? You're not with him anymore." He was watching me like someone watches an approaching deadly animal, cautious and ready to run away at any given second.

"God damn it, I'll fucking rip his balls off if he slept with that skank!" I exploded.

"I'm sure it was when you two were separated." He said, "And you keep forgetting the fact that I said it maybe isn't true."

"I'll bet it's true, that motherfucking liar cheating on me! I'll straighten this out!" I was seething and doing my best not to punch something. I grabbed his phone. The Joker reached forward as fast as lightning and wrestled it out of my hand.

"No!" he scolded me, "No calling the ex-boyfriend! Bad idea!"

"I wasn't going to call him; I was going to call Pam!" I snapped, "I thought maybe she would know the truth."

"If I don't know, Pam doesn't know. Stop making excuses. You were going to call him and you know what. It's barely been 2 days since you left his house. I know that you're upset and hurt, but he doesn't want to talk to you, especially about this." He said, "I can assure you of that."

"God I fucking hate him." I began sobbing, "I bet he was fucking that whore while we were together!"

"You're a bit fragile right now. I regret telling you about that. I thought maybe you would have taken it differently."

"How the hell else would I have taken it? I hate cheaters and you know that! You know about my college ex-boyfriend and how he ran off with my best friend! You fucking know that and you still chose to me that? God, you're such a dick!" I stood up, "I actually thought about having sex with you but now forget it! I'm not going to be in the mood for weeks!"

As I stormed away and into the bathroom, I heard him say to myself, "Fuck my life."

…

I decided to just take a shower and try to release some of my energy. I stood there for indeterminable amount of time, and just let the hot water fall on me and try to forget what I had heard. I knew I was being sort of irrational right now, but come on, the guy had just broken up with me and now I was hearing that he may not have been faithful? What a fucking joke. I was having a hard time believing it, but I did have to justify this in my head somehow. Maybe it was when we had broken up, when I had left him initially for the Joker or it could have been the other time we had broken up before that, or it could have been just some one-night stand. It probably wasn't a relationship by any means. Selina Kyle was not the relationship type. But still…even if he did, he lied. He lied by omission and that hurt me more than I wanted to ever admit. I knew it was a bit hypocritical coming from me, the queen of the liars and life-fuck-up-ers. I broke his heart more than once, and that was something I couldn't bear to dwell on.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted my thoughts, "Harley?"

"What?" I asked, the weariness prominent in my voice.

"I have Pam on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

"Tell her I'll call her back later."

"You need to talk to her now." He said.

"Is it really that urgent?"

"She says it is."

I let out a string of curses under my breath and got out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around me, and opened the door.

"Sexy." He grinned.

I took the phone and slammed the door, locking it.

I adjusted my head towel and answered the call, "What?"

"I don't deserve that tone."

"Yeah, you do actually. What the hell were you thinking, not telling me that Bruce fucked the stupid Catwoman?" I was trying very hard not to start yelling, because I knew that would be pretty ineffective in this case.

"We don't know if that's true. It was only something I heard." Pam said.

"Oh so you're the one who's spreading the rumor, then. Awesome," I drawled, "Who did you hear that from?"

"You're going to get mad."

"No, I'm not. Just tell me."

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. I heard it from Selina herself." Pam said, her voice dropping off substantially at the end of the statement.

"Ok, so, what you're telling me is that Selina told you and this doesn't count as evidence."

"Yeah, it doesn't. Selina is a compulsive liar. She'll say anything to get what she wants out of you." Pam said, trying to be reassuring, "I'm sure that it wasn't true."

"Then why would she say that? She has nothing against me. I've never even met her!" I exclaimed, "Why would she go around spreading rumors like that?"

"Um, because she doesn't know Bruce and the Batman are the same person, babe."

"Oh," I said, deflated, "Well, ok then."

"I hope that cleared it up for you."

"I'm still pissed off." I pouted.

"I know you are. Bruce means a lot to you, and I know how you feel about cheaters." Pam said soothingly.

"You need to tell the man that belongs to this phone that. I'm pissed at him for telling me this so soon after the break-up. He has no fucking tact at all."

"I don't know how this still surprises you." Pam laughed, "He's always been a bit socially inept."

"That's the understatement of the millennium." I said, almost cracking a smile, "Well, I need to go. Come over tomorrow."

"When?"

"I don't care. I'll be here all day. You have a key."

"Alright. Are you sure you're ok, Harley? I don't want to get off the phone until I know that I'm not going to find you hanging from the rafters."

"We don't have rafters. And no, seriously, I'm fine. I just need time to process this." I leaned against the bathroom wall, all of a sudden feeling my sleepiness, "I need to get some rest. It's been an emotionally trying day."

"Alright. I'll stop by tomorrow around lunch. I'll bring bagels."

"You're a saint."

"I do my best."

We hung up and I opened the door, and the Joker was still standing there. I handed him the phone, "Eavesdropping?"

"I guess I should just admit to it, considering I've been caught." He smiled crookedly, "What did Pam have to say?"

"Nothing you didn't already say."

"You sounded murderous."

"The only thing was that Selina told Pam about her and Bruce, which means there is a good chance that it isn't true." I reiterated for him, "So I guess that makes me feel a little better."

"I just don't know why you care so much."

"Fact: I've been cheated on. Fact: I hate cheaters. Ergo, if he cheated, then I will hate him." I declared, "I've demonstrated my logic, and now I shall go to bed."

"I'll join you."

"Couch," I said, pointing at the object of which I was speaking.

"I don't think so."

"Well, I do think so, so you're doing it. End of discussion."

"Since when did you get this take charge attitude?" he raised an eyebrow, "I'm not sure if I'm pissed off or want to jump you."

"Yeah, so, you're sleeping on the couch. Peace, bro." I said, and attempted to close the door behind me, but the Joker put his foot in it.

"I am not sleeping on the couch."

"Alright, alright, you don't have to. I was just trying to see if that would work, to be honest. If we sleep in the same bed, though, no funny business."

"I have no idea what you mean." He said as he took off his button-up shirt and started rummaging around in the dresser for one of his crappy, bargain-bin t-shirts. What I never understood is that he was loaded but never seemed to use the money for anything normal, like clothes or shoes, but rather for, oh you know, stuff like hand grenades and carbon monoxide.

"You know exactly what the phrase 'funny business' means."

"Will you provide a demonstration of what it could be?" he licked his lips in a basically pornographic fashion.

"Yeah, so how about um…no to that, then," I sighed, "You're obscene."

"You like it."

"False." I merely replied.

"Keep denying it, Princess, but one day, out of nowhere you're going to be like – BAM!" he threw his hands up in the air for emphasis, and then said in a lower voice, "Oh wait, I want to fuck the shit out of this man next to me. And you know what I'll do? I'll just tell you no."

"Oh yeah, seriously, you would do that." I actually outright laughed at that, "You are incapable of telling me no in that department."

"How would you know? We've only had sex a grand total of 2 times."

"Where are you getting the second time from? It was only once."

"Are you sure it wasn't twice? I swear to God I remember having sex with someone recently…" his face screwed up in thought, "Oh, so maybe it was Selina…"

I promptly punched him as hard as I could in the gut, and the look on his face was priceless as he doubled over, "FUCK!"

"You know you deserved that."


	13. Regrets and Mistakes

**A/N: I'm just chock full of sunshine and daisies this week. Just kidding, here's the most emo chapter so far. Fail. But I love the drama.  
**

Chapter 13: Regrets and Mistakes

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares_

_Regrets and mistakes they are memories made_

_Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you_

_I wish nothing but the best for you too_

"_Someone Like You," Adele_

_**2 weeks later…**_

"Do we always have to have our rendezvous in the worst part of town?" I groaned as Pam stopped at a seedy-looking pawn shop in the heart of Gotham, "I'm always afraid I'm going to be raped or shot or mauled by a dog or something."

"Oh you suburban kids and your fear of anything on the wrong side of the tracks," Pam teased.

"Look who's talking, rich bitch." I rolled my eyes.

"Point taken," she glanced up at the sign, "Yeah, this is the place." She then looked at her cell, which was adorned with green sequins, tacky and earthy, as always, "She should be here any minute."

"We're not staying here, are we?" I asked.

"I don't know." Pam shrugged, "There's not many places the three of us can go without looking suspicious or calling unwanted attention to ourselves. We are three hot chicks hanging out together; we're bound to cause a stir."

"I'm glad you're confident."

"You know it, sister."

I opened my mouth to say something but I heard high heels clacking behind me.

"Girls," A deeper, sultry voice said.

Pam's face broke into a wide grin as Selina Kyle sauntered onto the scene. She was dressed in a black lace top with only a black bra under it, tight black jeans with patent leather black heels, and her sleek dark-brown hair was pulled up into a sky-high ponytail. She didn't leave much to the imagination, that Selina.

"Looking fashionably skanky as always, dear," Pam embraces Selina.

"And you two, lovely," Selina said in what could have been perceived as a warm voice, but I did not know her well enough to know if she was faking it. All I knew was that when she pulled away with Pam, she gave her the once-over and I felt a little uncomfortable with their physical contact.

Selina raised an eyebrow at me, "So this is the famous Harley Quinn."

"I prefer infamous." I shrugged, "But we can work out those details later. Pleased to meet you, Selina. Pam has told me a lot about you."

"Only the best, I hope." Selina cast a sideways glance at Pam, who gave her a flirty half-smile, the same one she gave men she was about to beat up for looking at her the wrong way on the street.

"You know I can only praise you." Pam said, "In all areas of your life."

Oh, Jesus Christ. They were clearly fuck buddies. Now I'm the third, straight, prudish wheel…that's really awesome. And by that I mean it was not awesome in the slightest.

"Alright, can we keep this at a professional level?" I said loudly to get their attention because they were staring at each other like hunks of very prime meat.

"You have a lot to learn, little girl." Selina inspected her long, manicured fingernails, "We're not in a professional kind of business. I steal to make a living."

"First of all, you are not that much older than me, and second, I understand perfectly what business we're in. I live with the greatest criminal mastermind this city has ever seen." I couldn't believe the actual pride in my voice when I said that.

"Sorry, I thought you were like 16. You look like a child. And also, I wasn't aware you and the clown were back together." Selina retorted.

Pam stepped in between us, "How about we discuss this in a more private location?"

"I have nothing to hide, Pamela." Selina smirked, "But if you would prefer that, we can go. Follow me."

Selina strode forward without another word and Pam and I did as she said. Pam glanced over at me, "I know she's abrasive, Harley, but she's good at what she does."

"I hope to God you don't know mean that in the way that I'm thinking." I shuddered.

"Oh shh," Pam swatted at me, but was smiling in that fond way that suggested she meant that statement in both contexts, "When she lets her guard down, she's a lot more bearable."

"How long have you two…?"

"Eh, like a month now. It's relatively recent." Pam shrugged, "It's pretty casual. We aren't in anything committed."

"I honestly thought she was straight." I admitted.

"Oh, well, she's bisexual. She doesn't discriminate in that area."

"Cute," I wrinkled my nose, "I just don't want to think of you two in flagrante delicto, ok? I'm perfectly fine with my heterosexual status."

"You're so old-fashioned, dear."

"I prefer being a stick in the mud, thanks."

"Never thought about it?"

"Nope, not even an inkling." I shook my head.

"Suit yourself, then."

"I'm happy if you're happy, Pam." I said, "I really mean that."

Pam smiled, "Thanks, sweetie."

Selina halted, and we almost bumped into her, "Sorry to ruin this little bonding moment, you two, but we're here."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at the little dingy diner in front of me, "It's…quaint."

"It's off the beaten track and I know people here. They won't rat us out." Selina said with a slight defensive tone, "I'm sorry it's not Chez Louis with 40 dollar steaks."

Pam saw the rage boiling up in my face, and she hooked her arm through Selina's, "Shall we, ladies?"

"We shall." Selina said huffily, and I followed them, sulking, into the diner.

We grabbed a booth near the counter, and placed our drink order with the waitress.

Once she was out of earshot, Selina leaned forward, "Before I tell you confidential information, Pam has assured me that you can be trusted. Is this true?"

"Do you trust Pam?" I asked simply.

"With my life," Selina said, squeezing Pam's hand.

"Then you can trust me."

"Alright, just getting that out of the way," Selina regarded me with a half-smile, "You're straightforward. I like that."

"I do what I can." I shrugged.

"Can I be sure that you won't be telling your boyfriend all the details about this operation?" Selina inquired, eyes serious, "Even though I respect the man, I don't want him in our business."

"First of all, he's not my boyfriend. I just live with him. Second, I have no obligation to tell him anything. If you don't want him to know, he won't know. I'm good at hiding things from him, believe me." I said firmly.

"Ah right, that is true." Selina nodded in acknowledgment.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you covered up your relationship with Bruce for all that time. He must have really trusted you." Selina elaborated.

"How do you know about Bruce?" I asked in a low voice, and then glared at Pam, who was looking quite guilty at the present moment, "Thanks a lot, BEST FRIEND."

"She had a suspicion about you two. All I did was confirm it." Pam said helplessly.

I sighed, "Well, yeah, I did hide that from him, but it hurt me to do it. I knew I was betraying him, but I really loved Bruce so I was willing to risk it."

"Yeah, he really loved you." Selina sipped her Diet Coke, staring down at it, "He talked about you a lot."

I stared at her, trying to determine if she was telling me the truth or complete bullshit, "What the hell are you getting at?"

Pam's eyes were wide as saucers, and she looked like she was struggling to decide who to watch in the inevitable debacle.

"Didn't Pammy tell you? Bruce and I used to be fuck buddies." Selina said nonchalantly, "Nice guy, really. Just so damn hung up on you…not very enjoyable to be around. Pam is just so vibrant and full of life, and amazing in bed, may I add." She winked.

I could feel my nostrils flaring and lips curling into a snarl. I found it hard to come up with the words I was so fucking enraged, "Would you mind telling me when this happened?"

"Like how many times?"

"I mean, WHEN DID YOU FUCK MY FIANCE?" I said in a louder voice than I wanted to, and the 2 or 3 people remaining in the restaurant glanced awkwardly in our direction.

"Harley, calm down." Pam said, looking nervous.

"I will not calm down!" I snapped, "How did you expect me to react? This bitch slept with Bruce! So were you putting the moves on him when we were together? Did he cheat on me? You better tell me now. Don't lie; there's no point in it. Either way it ends in me going to Wayne Manor and beating the ever-loving shit out of Bruce Wayne."

Selina blinked, speechless, "Um…well…I…I don't know. I've known him for a while. We always had a flirtation going on, the Batman-Catwoman sort of deal, you know…"

"So he knows you're Catwoman, and you know he's Batman? WHAT SHIT. I can't fucking believe this. That motherfucking cock-sucking son of a bitch."

"Come on, Harley, I didn't know you were even in the picture at first. He broke it off when you guys got serious. We slept together a couple times after you left him at the altar because God knows he needed it, but not recently. I don't think you should blame Bruce entirely for this…" Selina bit her lip, "I didn't even know you, so how was I supposed to feel bad?"

"YOU'RE A SKANK!" I screamed, and stood up, not even giving the slightest shit about who was listening, "A dirty WHORE who makes good men cheat on their girlfriends! I don't care what your excuse is, but you're a WHORE. YOU HEAR THAT? A WHORE!"

And without further adieu, I stormed out of the restaurant.

I began walking away, half-expecting Pam to follow me. She didn't even try. What could I say? I'm kind of insane and pretty much embarrassed them and made myself look like a psycho bitch in two sentences. I was never going to live that down. However, I was too focused on my rage to care. Thunder boomed in the distance, and right now, I could only think of one thing to do.

…

So I ended up at Wayne Manor, standing in the pouring rain, soaking to the skin and with blood-shot, angry eyes. I could not even imagine what I looked like right now, but again, the rage was dominating every other sense of my body. I couldn't tell why I cared so damn much that Bruce was a cheating son of a bitch, but I had to tell him that to his face. I had to do it immediately while I was in this emotional state, because otherwise I would never summon the courage to do it.

I rang the doorbell, shaking; the cold rain was seeping into my scalp and underneath my clothes. Alfred opened the door, and jumped slightly, taken aback at my appearance, "Miss Quinzel?"

"Hi, Alfred," I sneezed, looking up at him sheepishly, "May I come in?"

"Master Wayne has said that he doesn't want to see you anymore, Miss Quinzel. I believe you are aware of that." He sighed, "But I'm such a soft old man, and I cannot stand idly by and let you catch pneumonia. Let me make you some tea."

"You're awesome, Alfred." He stepped aside to let me in.

I followed Alfred to the main kitchen, and suddenly I heard footsteps bounding down the stairs, "Alfred? Who was at the door?"

"In the kitchen, Master Wayne!" he called in return.

And with that, Bruce appeared in the doorway, and we stared at each other in what was a supremely tense and awkward moment. Bruce was dressed impeccably as always in a three-piece suit; he must have been getting ready to leave for a benefit or something.

"I thought I told you that she wasn't allowed in this house anymore." Bruce said coldly.

"The poor thing was shivering in the cold, Master Wayne. Have a little sympathy. She must be here for a reason." Alfred said as the tea kettle whistled, and he went over to inspect it, "I'm glad you're up and about." He turned to face me, "This one would do nothing for days. I had to literally push him out of bed to go to this charity ball tonight."

As I didn't feel guilty enough…

"Bruce, can I talk to you please?" It was taking every ounce of my will to not start screaming at him right then and there.

"I don't have time for this." Bruce said curtly, and folded his arms across his chest, "If you can tell me what you want in less than a minute, I might listen."

"Master Wayne…" Alfred said warningly.

"Fine," Bruce snapped, "Because I owe you a favor, Alfred, I will listen to her."

Alfred smirked, and handed me my cup of chamomile tea, my favorite, "Here you go, Miss Quinzel. Just leave it in the study when you're done and I will come pick it up. It was nice to see you again. This house has been missing your feminine energy."

"Thank you, Alfred," I smiled without any mirth, "I've missed it here, too."

Bruce turned on his heel and left the room. I guess this was the indication that I was supposed to follow him. I dejectedly stared down at my tea as I walked, and eventually we went into the study. Bruce stood near the fireplace, pouring himself a glass of scotch, and gestured for me to sit on the couch, as far away from him as I could physically get in the room.

"What's this visit about?"

I set my tea down. I was surprised at how calm I was as I said, "I talked to Selina Kyle today."

Bruce's mouth was set in a firm line, but his eyes went wide, trying not to betray his emotions.

"She told me that you two used to sleep together. I was just wondering if you ever planned on telling me about that, considering we were going to get married and everything, you know. I just thought maybe you'd let me know if you…oh, I don't know…CHEATED ON ME." My voice wavered with the oncoming tears, "How dare you pretend I was the only one in your life when you your whore on the side? I loved you Bruce and you played me like a fucking fool. You made me believe that you were this nice guy who would never betray me, that would be there for me until the very end, and so I was a little surprised to hear that you didn't actually give a flying fuck about me!"

"Don't start making snap judgments!" Bruce interjected loudly, cutting me off, "I only slept with Selina a grand total of 5 times, and none of those times were when we were together! What are you getting so worked up about? Sex is just sex!"

"Not to me, it isn't! I don't get into a physical relationship with just anybody! I trusted you, Bruce, and you were off flirting and making googly eyes at Selina! Was I not good enough for you? Am I not skanky enough? Do I not have a loose enough vagina for you? Jesus Christ, Bruce, I was in love with you! You know how much I hate cheaters. You knew all about my past and how much I was affected by that! I just can't believe that you made me trust you! I know now that I can never trust any guy again, so thanks a lot, ass-hole!"

"Harley…"

"No, I don't want to hear any excuses from you! The fact that you're defending her instead of apologizing to me tells me exactly what I meant to you. You want to guess? Hmm, well, I think I meant JACK SHIT to you!" I shook my head, "God, I can't believe I ever loved you. I can't believe I was going to marry you."

There was a tense silence.

"Haven't you hurt me enough?" Bruce asked quietly. I could tell he was trying to hold back his own tears.

"No, not yet," I clenched my teeth, swallowing hard, "I wish I never knew you. I can't believe I thought I could spend the rest of my life with someone so fucking thoughtless. I can't believe I ever thought of having your children. You know what?" I waited until he looked me in the eye, "I am glad I chose the Joker over you. At least he actually loves me."

I said the thing I knew would damage him the most. I saw in his eyes that I had broken his spirit entirely, and honestly, I didn't give a shit. I reached forward, drained the rest of his scotch, and placed it back down on the mantle, "I'll see you on the streets, Batman."

I held my head high and left the room. I made it to the front door and half a mile across the grounds before I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. I doubled over, placing my hand on a nearby oak tree for support. I sobbed until all I could do was dry heave; I felt sick to my stomach, but I had nothing in my stomach to vomit. After I had finished having my breakdown, I sniffled hard and pulled out my cell. I didn't know who to call. I just bit the bullet and called Pam.

She answered on the third ring, "Harley? What happened to you?"

"I'm at Bruce's." I said, feeling utterly ashamed of myself.

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"I had to confront him. I feel too weak to get home. Can you come get me, please?" I tried to sound as pathetic as possible.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in 15 minutes, but you sure as hell are going to owe me one after the shit you've pulled tonight, Harleen Quinzel." She said, and hung up before I could say anything else.

After I had been waiting for about 5 minutes, my phone rang again and I picked up, thinking it was Pam, but to my absolute mortification, it was him, "Jesus Christ, Harley, can't you give it a rest already? You're such a god damn masochist."

"I don't know what to say except I'm sorry." I said helplessly.

"Whatever; we need to talk when you get home. Is Pam dropping you off?"

"Yeah, she is. I should be home in like half an hour or so."

"Good." The phone then disconnected.

Ok, so now everyone was pissed off at me. Awesome.


	14. The Revolution in my Bedroom

A/N: It's getting a little obvious that this story is just reflecting my inner emotions. Woops. Enjoy.

Chapter 14: The Revolution in my Bedroom

_Hey stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold_

_You got both of your guns; when you shoot you think I'd duck_

_I led the revolution in my bedroom and I set all the zippers free_

_We said, "No more war, no more clothes, give me peace, oh kiss me!"_

"_Hurricane," Panic at the Disco_

Pam picked me up, me looking like a sad sack outside Wayne Manor; it was hard to discern the tears from the rain falling down my face. She pulled up next to me and opened the passenger door, "Get in loser, we're going shopping."

I smiled slightly. She was in a good enough mood to make a Mean Girls reference. I knew that meant she wasn't as angry with me as I had thought.

"Thank you," I said as I got in, and buckled my seatbelt, closing the door, "I am so sorry for doing that to you and Selina in the restaurant today. It was really stupid and I -"

"No apologizing right now." Pam cut me off, "You look like you've been to hell and back. What happened at Bruce's? Did you tell him what you wanted to tell him? Is this shit finally over? I just wanted to know if me wanting to throttle you was premature."

"Haha," I said mirthlessly, "I basically told him we were really over and that I was glad I picked the Joker over him."

"Ooh, shot him straight through the heart, didn't you, hon?" she grinned, "I like your gumption."

"I felt horrible doing it, but I was just so angry…" I said, closing my eyes, doing my absolute best not to relive what I had just done, "He really hurt me. Here I was, feeling like I had let the most perfect and honorable guy go, and in reality he was a dick, a huge dick. I'm pissed at myself, I guess, that I didn't see this coming at all. Knowing me, good men never seem to fall into my lap. It just never works out that way. I guess I'm just not meant to find that kind of someone."

"Wow, seriously, Harley? Wake the fuck up!" Pam snapped, and I jolted to attention for a minute, startled out of my pit of misery and woe, "Do you not see the man who is waiting for you at home, worried about you? Do you not even bother to think about him that way? Maybe if you just let him be a good guy, he would. You've gone through this whole thing thinking he was awful and he was never going to change, but you know what? I think he proved to you that he will stay with you through anything and you're just being a big bitch about it. I think you should, at the very least, give him a chance to show you that he isn't the man you presumed he was."

"How would you know?" I retorted, "You don't live with him! You don't know him the way I do, the most intimate details of his life. It's hard to be the one whose shoulder he cries on, and the one who takes the brunt of his rage on a daily basis. You're not his therapist and his friend and his lover all rolled into one. I don't think you'll ever understand how he is, so don't keep pretending that you know all about him and what kind of person he is. He's proven to me over and over again that he can't control his temper and he lashes out in the worst way possible. It's a little hard to forget that he killed my fiancé out of spite, ok? Oh yeah, and there's that whole issue of MY PARENTS DYING."

"Well, I guess I forgot about that part a little." Pam said, voice trailing off slightly, "But seriously, I got to see how distraught he was when you went missing. I was skeptical of him, believe me; I saw how he treated you and I wasn't his biggest fan up until now…but I saw how much he cared about you, how he only wanted to see you happy and alive. That's why he didn't call you at Bruce's. He wanted to let you make your own decision about the situation, and clearly you made the right one on your own."

"Oh, yeah, and what if I hadn't? What if I had continued to stay with Bruce and we escaped together like we planned on doing? What was he going to do then?" I shot at her, "Oh, don't look so surprised. Bruce and I had a back-up plan all along. Yeah, obviously now it seems a little stupid of us, but we really thought we could make it together. I guess I was wrong about him, and it really hurts to know that. I guess in a way it makes me feel better because the break-up was warranted and I really gave it to him for lying to me, but I still feel like shit. I still feel like I wasted so much time with him, thinking something was going to come of it and it never did. I don't know how I'm ever going to feel like I did with Bruce ever again."

"You will, babe." Pam grasped my hand, squeezing it, "You're going to get over this. Selina knows why you lashed out at her. She's not mad at you."

"Why the fuck should I care if Selina is mad at me?" I pulled my hand away, "Jesus, Pam, don't you care about how I feel at all? You're just happy because you're getting laid and that's all that matters to you!"

"That's not true and you know it." Pam said smoothly, not bothered by my outburst much to my frustration, "You know you're just upset and taking it out on everyone else so you don't have to blame yourself for your mistakes."

"Now you're just making shit up." I pouted, staring out the window at the rain and purposefully not looking at Pam as I said it, because I knew she'd see that I thought she was right.

"I keep saying to myself, isn't Harley a psychologist and shouldn't she know herself better than anyone else? And you continually prove me wrong." Pam chuckled, "You're so mad at yourself right now. You're pissed that you didn't see this coming because you wanted to be one step ahead of Bruce and he pulled a fast one on you, and I know you well enough to know that you hate when someone knows something you don't."

"Yes, well, I'm immature in that way." I sniffed haughtily.

She just shook her head, smiling to herself, and I heard her phone, which was in the drink pocket of her car, buzz a couple times.

"Text message," I remarked.

Pam picked it up, and read it quickly, and typed something back in response. She put it in her pocket. I peered over at her, "Selina?"

"What?" she asked, distracted.

"Was that Selina texting you?" I clarified.

"Oh yeah, yeah, she was just wondering when I was coming over. I just told her I would after I dropped you off."

"I don't think she's worth me and you getting in an accident because she wants to text you."

"Oh, stop," Pam said, "It was one little text. Get over it."

And with that, her phone buzzed again.

I gave her a look, and she sheepishly pulled out her phone, read the text, and then responded again.

"Now what?"

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Ew, you guys aren't like…sexting, are you?" I cringed, "That's so disturbing."

"We don't do that." Pam said defensively, "We're a little classier than you think. Just because we're lesbians doesn't mean we're down and dirty like that."

"I don't see how being lesbian equates to dirtiness, but thank you for clearing that up."

"Well, here's your apartment." Pam said, the car halting, "Are you going to be ok? Are you sure you don't want to spend the night at my place or something?"

"And listen to you and Selina make animal noises all night? No thanks." I laughed, "I'll be fine. It's just been a very long night. Have fun with your girlfriend. Tell her I'm really sorry about completely losing my mind. I don't think I'll ever be able to show my face in that 20-block radius again. They'll probably have some signs up for an escaped mental patient with my picture on them."

"Wouldn't be surprised if they did," Pam teased, and I shoved her in a fond manner.

"Whatever, Pammy; I'd better peace out. Call me tomorrow."

"I will."

And with that, I stepped out of the car and ran inside, climbing up the clanky, rusty stairs to our apartment. I had had up it to here with the elevator and its lack of being cooperative, so I resorted to the 6 flights of stairs to overcome. So far, it was faring better.

I made it to the door, and located my keys, opening the door to find the Joker sitting on the couch. He looked up when he heard the sound.

"Have you had quite enough of bothering poor Brucey?" he smirked as I walked in.

I merely glared at him and did not dignify him with a response.

"Oh, come on, you know I'm just fucking with you." He stood up, and embraced me tightly, "I'm not mad, in case you were wondering."

"You sounded like it on the phone." I said, finally breaking my silence.

"Well, Pam told me what you said in the car and –"

"Wow, you guys text each other now? Cute," I drawled, "I thought she was endangering my life by texting Selina, not you."

"Calm down, I just wanted to make sure you weren't slitting your wrists or something." He took off my jacket, "You're soaked. Why don't you go take a shower?"

"Sounds like the best idea ever right now." I sighed, and peered up at him skeptically, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I need a reason?"

"Yes."

"Because you told Bruce you were happy you chose me. That's the most loving thing I've ever known that's come out of your mouth. You don't say shit like that lightly."

What, suddenly everyone is my therapist?

"Well, I don't know if I really meant it." I said, flustered, "I told him that because I knew it would kill him. It was done quite maliciously."

"That's the way I prefer it." He grinned.

"Something I knew you wouldn't be bothered by that."

…

After I got out of the shower, I went into the living room, where I found him watching a slightly scrambled Lifetime channel. I could tell it was Lifetime because a Grey's Anatomy rerun was playing; he was secretly addicted.

"What season is it?" I asked, sitting down.

"Well, Meredith and Derek are getting married."

"Walk-down-the-aisle wedding, post-it note wedding, or in-court wedding?"

"The first one," he replied, looking a little disturbed by my Grey's knowledge.

"Ah yes, Season 6. Good year," I said, nodding sagely. As we watched, I absent-mindedly scrunched my wet hair so that it would curl properly.

"You can tell by looking at one scene? That's pretty impressive."

"I do my best." I shrugged.

He smiled at me, and nonchalantly put his arm around my shoulder; honestly, at that point I was too tired to complain and push him away.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little, I guess."

"That was about as vague and non-committal as I could have asked for." He remarked.

"What do you want me to say?" I said, irritated, "I don't regret what I did. I'm just angry that everybody seemed to know about this but me. I would have been better off if SOMEONE had told me about it earlier." I looked pointedly at him.

"Blame Pam." He said simply.

"I already did. She's not here, so I'm putting it on you."

"Well, that's a bit unfair. I don't deserve that. Out of everyone, I knew the least."

"Ugh," I groaned, "Whatever. I really don't want to argue anymore. It's just aggravating and only makes me more upset. I'd rather sit here in silence."

"I prefer that option, too." He nodded in agreement.

So, with that, 15 minutes passed by and suddenly he said, "Wanna make out?"

"No." I said immediately.

"Wow, that was quick. Am I really that repulsive?" he feigned offense.

"I said no."

"Are we ever going to have sex again?"

"I don't know." I said shortly.

"How do you not know? I've made it very clear how I feel about you, Harley. All you need to do is tell me yes or no."

"Jesus Christ, why are you bringing this up after I've just had a horrible and emotionally trying couple of days? I'm perfectly content sitting here with you, and you have to ruin it! You always have to fuck everything up by TALKING!" I stormed out of the room and into the bedroom, slamming the door. Yes, I know that I'm so deliciously pubescent.

After a couple of minutes, there was a knock at the door. I did not respond. He opened it anyway and stood across from me, leaning against the dresser. He folded his arms across his chest, "I know how you can release all this negative energy that's directed at me."

I stared at him, dead-pan, "I know what you're going to suggest."

"Yeah, well, you know it's true." He sighed, "Baby, you seriously just need to get laid."

"You are a liar! That's not going to work. It's just a cheap ploy to have sex with me!"

"Rats, you found me out." He drawled.

"I hate you."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man on earth."

"Now who's lying?" he chuckled.

"I'm not." I said firmly.

He exhaled deeply, and moved from the dresser to the bed. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of my hips, face dangerously close to mine. I tensed, not daring to look away. My heart was racing in my chest; I could hear it in my ears.

"You're sexy when you're mad." He said softly.

"Don't start with me." I swallowed hard.

"Come on, you know you want to." He said in my ear.

"Nope," I was losing my resolve, and fast.

He only moved closer to me, causing me to lean back to try to get away from him. Needless to say, that didn't work at all. He pinned me underneath him, "Well, looks like you're in a very compromising position, Miss Quinn."

"Yes, I suppose so." I bit my lip.

He searched my eyes, "Are you scared of me?"

"No." I said, and I meant it, "I'm not, but I just…I'm scared of how I feel about you."

He looked taken aback for a moment, and then kissed me hard. I had nowhere to go, so I gave into it. It wasn't that bad, honestly; in fact, it was kind of a familiar gesture, like I was with a childhood sweetheart and had been separated for years. When I responded to the kiss, he took this as an excuse to move his hands from my shoulders to my stomach, slowly running his fingers down my chest to my stomach. His fingers went under my shirt and worked it upward toward my breasts, until finally I just didn't care anymore and sat upright, taking it off. He wrapped his arms around my bare torso, stroking my back as we kissed. I ran my hands up and down his stomach and chest, almost recoiling at how thin he was. I could feel his ribs, and reminded myself vaguely to tell him to eat more. He pulled back for a moment, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." I said breathlessly, "Just fine."

"I knew you were beautiful, but I forgot how much I loved seeing you like this…so vulnerable and…"

"Naked." I said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, that would be it." He smiled, rubbing my neck, "You're so beautiful. I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life."

"I don't think that's true." I shyly buried my head into his chest. My old insecurities came out.

"Believe me." He said, grasping my chin and forcing me to look him in the eye, "I see you like no one else sees you, Harleen."

Ok, so sue me, but when guys say sweet things like this to you, it is very difficult not to give in.

And give in, I did. I suppose I released a lot of my pent-up emotions and feelings about the situation, about how long I wanted this but couldn't have it, but couldn't allow myself to have it. I didn't think I could ever be happy again, but there was a fleeting moment, looking into his blood-shot yet bright eyes, that maybe I could be. Maybe everything that happened with Bruce would go away eventually, that those feelings of complete hopelessness and loss would fade. I wanted so badly to just feel loved again that I had to give in, no matter if I was going to regret it or not. I didn't know if I loved him, but I knew that this had to happen to get past any issues we had. If that sounds crazy…I know. I've given up hope on any last bit of sanity that I may have possessed up to this point.

I lay there, staring up at the ceiling fan for the longest time, just watching it slow and quicken. I didn't want to say anything to ruin the moment. He was asleep next to me, as men seem to do. I stared at his bare back, muscles stretching as he breathed heavily in his sleep. I felt a surge of emotion that I couldn't seem to express before. I didn't want to leave this bed, didn't want the morning to come because then we would have to go on, dealing with the consequences of what we had done.

I knew right now that I couldn't allow myself to love him, because that would be too soon. I knew I was incredibly stupid for having sex with him so soon after leaving Bruce, but I remembered how big of a dick Bruce was and I felt my blood boil. God, that ass-hole pretending he was this perfect boyfriend. I shook my head, trying to shake it off. He wasn't worth thinking about anymore, but yet I couldn't help but feel so betrayed. I had spent so long fighting my real feelings to make my life better, to believe that I was worthy of someone like Bruce, someone like me. I wasn't a 16-year-old anymore, living in a fantasy that I would someday marry some obscenely wealthy doctor who would buy me ponies and treat me like a princess. Those days were long gone. I had been through hell and back and the Joker had been there through all of it, and that was something I couldn't ignore.

I decided to sleep on it. Maybe I would love him in the morning.


	15. Trying to Find the Light

**A/N: I realized this one took me a while. I was having some writer's block until tumblr track tag Harley Quinn came into my life and made me want to write a lot. Also, I am procrastinating writing my huge Spanish research paper on Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz and the feminist perspective in the Baroque period. LOL EFF. Enjoy, and maybe another chapter will show up soon!  
**

Chapter 15: Trying to Find the Light

_Like ships in the night, you keep passing me by_

_Just wasting time, trying to prove who's right_

_And if all goes crashing into the sea_

_If it's just you and me, trying to find the light_

_Like ships in the night_

"_Ships in the Night," Mat Kearney _

The sun rose the next morning, and I had pretty much gotten no sleep whatsoever. Meanwhile, he laid there like a lump, probably satisfied, that son of a bitch. I couldn't believe he could just say nothing about this, that something that meant so much to me was just an act for him. I know it's the perpetual woman's complaint about men, but I guess we women are not wired to separate sex from emotion. Whatever, that's his prerogative. Obviously I couldn't deny that he wanted this more than anything, to feel loved by me again, but I was still ambivalent.

Don't get me wrong, we had chemistry in the bedroom, but I couldn't help but feel like I had just wanted the attention and not him, exactly. I knew he loved me, but what would we ever make of it? It's not like we would ever get married or have children. God, could you even imagine? Yeah, it sucked because my biological clock was ticking and unless something was going to accidentally happen, it didn't look like it was in the cards for me. Not that I wanted children that much; being a mother was something that scared me half to death, let alone pregnancy. So gross. Having the Joker's children…excuse me while I vomit into my shoes. We'd birth the next Jack the Ripper or something.

I suppose I shouldn't tell him that. He might get a little offended.

"Deep in thought, Princess?" his voice startled me, "You have that faraway look you get when you're thinking really hard about something."

"Don't call me that," I said immediately, out of habit, "And yeah I was until you woke up."

He sighed, and propped himself up on the pillow, "I take it you're regretting what we did? I knew I shouldn't have pushed you when you weren't ready. You can blame me."

"Hey, sex is a two-way street." I shrugged, "I chose to do it. I don't regret it. I was just having thoughts about our future."

"Why are you worried about that? That's later on. I don't believe in planning for the future."

"Yeah, I know," I said wryly, "That's what scares me."

"Babe," he drawled, "Seriously? Why can't you just accept the present? You're always talking about what has passed and what hasn't. You're so preoccupied with what you can't fix."

"Excuse me for having a conscience."

"Is that implying I don't have one?" he smirked.

"I'm also in doubt of the existence of your heart, or whatever is that pumps that black sludge through your veins." I teased.

"Ouch," he made a stabbing motion to his chest, "Right to my non-existent heart."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, "You're so melodramatic."

He was silent for a moment or two, and finally said, "We belong together, you know."

"What makes you come to that conclusion?"

"You did last night." He started chuckling, and burst out laughing even harder when he saw my blank expression.

"You're disgusting." I said when I realized what he meant, and rolled over, pouting.

He wrapped his arms around me, "Harleen Frances Quinzel, I've known that I loved you for many years now. As much as you try to fight it, you just keep coming back. It means something."

"Well, first of all, it hasn't been 'many years'. Try like 2, bud." I said, sitting up and facing him and counting on my fingers, "Second, I keep coming back because, as sad and horribly depressing it sounds, I have nowhere else to go."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I heard a muffled ringtone from the living room. I immediately jumped up and ran to grab my cell. I looked at the incoming call, and answered, "What's up, Pammy?"

"Girl, you would not believe my life. I'm going to pick you up in 10 minutes and we're going to get breakfast."

I loved how I got no choice in this, "Ok, sounds good. See ya soon."

I hung up and walked back into the bedroom; before I could say anything, the Joker smiled and shook his head, "Let me guess. Pam is in need of her best friend."

"Yeah, she sounded really agitated." I sighed, rummaging through my dresser drawers for a pair of yoga pants and my NYU graduate school sweatshirt, "I need to go back to my penthouse pronto. I miss my clothes."

"Tell Pam to take you."

"Yeah, I might." I got dressed and ran a comb through my wild, tangled clump of hair and promptly and made the executive decision to put it in a ponytail instead.

Before I knew it, my cell buzzed with a text from Pam. I quickly replied and called into the bedroom, "I'll be back later."

"Have fun with the lesbian! Let me know if she tries anything again, because I'll have my video camera ready!"

I ignored him and closed the door behind me. He seemed to think it was hilarious that Pam hit on me once, and liked to make jokes about her being in love with me every chance he got. Which, by the way, I hoped to God wasn't true. Selina seemed to be more her type anyway.

When I got down to the front of our building, Pam barreled out of her car, grinning like a total idiot, "Harley, Harley!"

"Pam, Pam!" I echoed, "What's up?"

"You won't believe it!"

"What?"

"Selina and I are going to get married!" she squealed and shoved her hand in my face. All I could see was one very sparkly rock resting on her ring finger.

"Wow, Pam, oh my god…" I said, completely speechless, "Can you guys even do that?"

"Yeah we can!" she said indignantly.

"Believe me, honey, I am happy for you. Isn't this a little sudden?" I couldn't help but be skeptical of this arrangement, "You guys have only known each other for a couple months."

"When you know, you know." She shrugged, "Don't be a killjoy just because your love life is fucked up beyond all recognition."

"That may be," I decided to let that comment slide, "but I'm only trying to protect you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Sweetie, Selina won't hurt me." She smiled, "Now get in. I'm starving to death."

We went to our favorite little corner diner and ordered some perfectly greasy waffles, eggs and bacon. We dug in and Pam gushed about the wedding plans, "So we were thinking like late October, around Halloween, what do you think about that? I think that would be really nice, you know, with the fall leaves changing and you know we could maybe wear our costumes – oh wait, maybe we shouldn't wear that, it would attract attention – anyway, I mean we have to find someone who will officiate this considering the situation but I was thinking that, oh yeah, I need to ask you will you be my maid of honor?"

I was so caught up in her speech, and blanked for a second, "Wait, what was the last part?"

"Will you be my maid of honor, you idiot?"

"Oh my god, Pam, of course!" I exclaimed, grasping her hands in excitement, "Oh man, I can't wait to find a wedding dress with you! Can I wear red for my bridesmaid dress? You know it's my favorite color!"

"Well, of course," she laughed, "I'm so glad you're on board with this. I really thought you were going to like freak out on me."

"Yeah, I could have." I admitted, "But seriously, this is your life and if you want to get married, then I am here for you. I have to get past whatever it was holding me back. I don't necessarily like Selina and need time to forgive her, but if you love her, then that's the only thing I need to know."

"That's really mature of you, Harley." She said, her lips trembling as tears came to her eyes, "I was so nervous to tell you because you hate her so much, but I am so in love. I am so happy with her; I can't even articulate it. She wants to make things right between you guys. She said she knows it would mean a lot to me if you guys could at least be amicable."

"I think we could work at it."

"Thank you so much." Pam said, looking relieved, "I need this to work. I just don't want you two to be fighting all the time because it puts a lot of stress on me and you know I don't need that."

"Yeah, I think we're both a bit stressed." I said, "But wedding planning is a good kind of stress. I know from experience."

"Experiences," she corrected.

"Can we not remind Harley how many times she's been engaged and not married? It's really embarrassing." I sighed.

"Maybe the third time is a charm." She smiled.

"You have to be kidding me." I grimaced, "Mr. J and I are never getting married. We can barely stand to be in the same room with each other for more than a couple hours and then we start bickering. I don't think that bodes well for us."

"I suppose that's true." Pam admitted, "So I heard you two finally got back together."

"How do you know that? It just happened last night!"

"He told me."

"Ok, then why don't you two just get married? You guys clearly can communicate better than we can!" I said, aggravated, "What, are the two of you like besties forever now? This is fucking ridiculous!"

"He's a nice guy if you'd just get to know him." She said reproachfully.

"I know him plenty." I snapped, "That's why I wouldn't marry him."

"You know he's in love with you." She said, raising an eyebrow, "Don't you?"

"Are you inadvertently trying to tell me he got a ring?" I could barely hear my voice over the pounding in my ears.

"I don't know. I'm not saying he didn't."

I felt nauseous and it wasn't the food. I stood up and sprinted to the bathroom.

"Harley?" Pam called after me.

I barely made it to the sink before I threw up. Yeah, I know it is a pretty strong reaction to the prospect of marriage, but it was marriage to HIM. I literally could not stand the thought of it.

I heard the door to the bathroom open, and Pam came in behind me, "Oh my god, Harley, are you ok? I knew those waffles didn't taste right…"

"No, that was not it."

"So, you're seriously vomiting over the idea of a ring?" Pam leaned against the tiled wall next to the sink, "Honey, you have some serious issues you need to work out."

"Yeah, but it's…you know." I sighed, "He's not exactly what I pictured as husband material."

"Sweetie, no one ends up with the kind of person they thought they would marry." Pam hoisted herself up on the sink, "I don't know about you, but I don't think when I was 6 years old, I was picturing myself married to a tall, dark woman who dresses up like a cat for a living."

"I would really certainly hope not." I said, looking mortified.

She smiled, "Yet, here I am, and I couldn't be happier with my choice. Yes, Selina and I haven't known each other that long, but we love and care about each other and I think in the end, that is what gets you through a marriage."

"I know, Pam. Seriously, though; look at my past dating relationships – my college boyfriend was getting his doctorate in political science and is probably a governor or senator right now, John was a heart surgeon and got blown away, and then Bruce was a bajillionaire. And here I am, living in a shabby apartment with a clown man. Either I'm just in love or I have dating schizophrenia."

"Is that even a real thing?"

"It could be. Trust me, I'm a psychologist." I said dismissively.

She smirked, and jumped down, "Come on, we can't schmooze around in this bathroom all day. We should just finish our food and get out of here. I promised Selina we'd go to Bergdorf Goodman and start a wedding registry."

"You have got to be kidding me. I'm going to throw up again."

She smacked me in the arm, "Calm down. You can come with us if you want. I might need your discerning eye. I'm only good at finding stuff that's green and sexy."

"Very true," I smiled, "Well, I suppose I could come along for a little while. I think it might be a good opportunity to get better acquainted with Selina."

"Yes, perfect!" I couldn't help but feel warm under her beam; she just looked so pleased that I knew I had to just perk up and put myself back together.

…

We drove to the parking garage near Bergdorf Goodman on Fifth, and when we went inside the lobby, Selina was waiting. True to form, she was dressed impeccably in a long-sleeved black dress with black-and-white heels. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek high ponytail. She kind of looked like a skanky version of Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Pam strode ahead of me and hugged Selina, "Hey babe."

Selina kissed her on the cheek, respectful for the public, "Pammy dear, I was already scoping out this patterned china; it would be perfect for the apartment."

"Oh, really? I mean, I already have some but we could always do with more if we plan on having houseguests." Pam smiled.

The two gushed about their wedding registry while I stood a good awkward 3 to 5 feet behind Pam. People were passing by, looking aggravated when they had to walk around us.

"Hey guys?" I asked loudly.

The two, startled out of their own little world, stared at me.

"How about we get a move on?" I shifted uncomfortably, "I just don't want to stand here forever."

"Of course," Selina said, smiling with her teeth, which produced a surprisingly catlike effect, "I already signed us in."

As we weaved through the Saturday afternoon rush crowd, Selina and Pam clinging to each other and me trying to shove people aside to get to them, Selina pointed out a ridiculous plethora of pots, pans, bed sheets and pillowcases and Pam readily agreed to the lot of it. Before I even knew it, it had been two hours and probably over 100,000 dollars in merchandise had been put into the wedding registry system.

Needless to say, they were acting deliriously happy about the whole thing.

"Oh my god, Pammy, I can't believe you wanted to go for those lavender floral print bed sheets; they were so unfortunate! Here I was thinking you only wanted green!" Selina gushed, "I think it would be really beautiful if we had an outdoor wedding, right, because then you could be around nature!"

"Yeah, totally what I was thinking!" Pam squealed, "We are so on the same wavelength! For the reception, we could have some really beautiful black candles as centerpieces for the tables, and maybe some really cute leather stuff too since that's your thing!"

"You know me so well!" Selina grinned.

It made me want to throw up, but I am pretty sure the contents of my stomach were already emptied a few hours ago at breakfast.

"Guys, I'm gonna go home." I announced.

They turned around, looking crestfallen, "Aw, honey, no, we were having so much fun!"

"Um, well, you guys are having fun, and I feel like I'm intruding." I said, "I think I should be spending time with him, you know, and I'm sure you guys want to spend more time worrying about the wedding."

"Well, let me at least take you home." Pam offered.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "I don't want you to take time out of your busy day."

"Not at all, don't even worry about it," she turned to Selina, "How about you go to Macy's and wait there for me until I get back?"

"Sure, that's fine," Selina smiled, and kissed Pam on the cheek, "Text me when you're parking."

"Will do, babe." She said, and we exited.

As we crossed the street, Pam was running off at the mouth, "I'm so glad we did this, Harley! Everything is going so well, and you and Selina may have gotten off on the wrong foot but now it's totally going to get better, I promise. You being in this wedding is such a huge deal to me, and I can't wait to start picking out a wedding dress and your bridesmaid dress too! Oh man, it's going to be so AWESOME!"

I mainly inserted 'yeah', 'totally', and 'right' after every few syllables to let her know that I hadn't blown my brains out.

We got to the car, and drove away toward the apartment.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Pam asked after we sat there in awkward silence, "You seem a little off today."

"Well, I'm just not sure why you had to bring me along when all you did was talk to Selina." I did my best to sound like I wasn't pouting, "I'm still trying to deal with the fact that you're actually marrying a woman you've been with for like 2 months. I don't think I can commit that soon."

"Well, I don't think that you're ever going to commit to anyone, to be honest." Pam said good-naturedly, "And I understand why you're upset. I know I kind of just sprang this on you and it's a lot to process and I know marriage isn't exactly your favorite thing ever, but I really care about her and I want to be with her. If you can believe it in your skeptical little head, marriage can actually work."

"Hey, my parents' marriage was good…until the Joker, you know, blew them up in a fit of jealous rage." I grimaced.

"Yeah, I keep forgetting that happened, sorry."

"What a good friend you are." I rolled my eyes, "Bitch."

"You know what I mean." Pam flushed, "But seriously, I know your previous engagements ended in a rather…horrible…ways, but don't think that's the end of love for you. You still have another person to love you."

"Don't get all Sex and the City philosophical on me now."

"Come on, sweetie, you need to stop worrying about the past and just focus on what you have right now and make the best of it." Pam pulled up to the apartment, "Ok, now go in there and give that man a chance, damn it. You drive me crazy."

"I hate your guts, bitch." I said, getting out of the car.

"Call me later, skank."

I waved as her green Porsche squealed away down the street. The clanking, dripping stairs seemed even harder to walk up today for some reason. Maybe it was my lack of sleep or my frustration at how this morning seemed to go, but when I arrived at the door, I felt weak.

I dug in my purse for my keys, and was a little surprised to find that the door was already unlocked. I opened the door, "Hey, Mr. J, you wouldn't believe –"

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw him standing there with a gun to Bane's head.


	16. Just a Shot Away

**A/N: Finally filling in that cliffhanger! I know you're all waiting for bated breath...or at least I hope you are. My winter break for college is coming up and that either means there will be quick updates or none at all. We'll see how busy I am with work and all that business. Rockin' it. R&R my loyal readers! **

Chapter 16: Just a Shot Away

_Oh, a storm is threatening_

_My very life today_

_If don't get some shelter,_

_Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away_

_War, children, it's just a shot away_

"_Gimme Shelter", the Rolling Stones_

"…the day I had…" my voice trailed off as both of the men shot dirty looks at me, "Um…may I just ask what the flying fuck is going on here?"

"Babe, you'd better just get out of here now before I blow this guy's motherfucking brains out." The Joker said through gritted teeth.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's hold up a second," I said, putting down my purse and my shopping bags, "Put the gun down and let's talk about it."

"Don't go all psychotherapy on me, Harley," the Joker snapped, "You told me what this guy did to you, and I'm going to kill him."

Bane, meanwhile, was just sitting there as calm as a cucumber, which I couldn't seem to figure out for the life of me, "Hey man, I deserve it. If you want to kill me, kill me."

The Joker was not pleased with this; he liked the victim to at least put up a fight; the gun shook violently in his hand from fury, "You son of a bitch, you strangled my girlfriend!"

"We haven't exactly established the nature of our relationship." I pointed out.

He whipped his head toward me, snarling, "That's neither here nor there, dear." His lip curled over the last word.

"And he didn't technically strangle me. I would be dead if he did. He just attempted to choke me and it kind of hurt, but…" I stopped when I saw the look of death the Joker was giving me, and I walked over to him, putting my hand on his wrist, "Can we let the person with a doctorate degree in psychology handle this one?"

"You're going to use that against me for the rest of my life, aren't you?" the Joker asked, face dead-pan.

"You bet your ass I am." I replied, "Can you put the gun down now?"

I turned to Bane, "Unless you have a weapon on you."

Bane turned out his pockets, "I'm clean."

"Ok, then put down your gun." I instructed, and the Joker reluctantly did as I said. I gestured for Bane to sit down on the couch and he obliged. I perched myself on the coffee table across from him, and the Joker stood behind me, his hands protectively on my shoulders.

I then asked Bane calmly, "Ok, so what are you doing here? Or more importantly, how did you find out where we lived?"

"I will explain the first part, but the second part is easier to answer; the answer is that I have my ways of finding out these things."

"Um, I don't accept that response. Who specifically told you where we live?"

"I am not at liberty to say." He said cryptically.

"Hilarious, but seriously, you need to tell me. You are in a position where you have to comply." I gestured at the man standing behind me with the gun in his back pocket, "This guy here is not very patient."

"I noticed," Bane said, peering anxiously at the Joker, "Look, I just came here to apologize for what I did. I only kidnapped you to get Bruce's attention; I was not aware that you and the clown were together or whatever you guys are to each other. Either way, I did not anticipate him getting involved. I know that it probably was not the best way to handle the situation, and that I could have approached Bruce myself, but I figured he wouldn't take the time to listen to me. He'd probably think I was some psycho or something."

"I guess that makes sense." I affirmed, "Go on."

Ok, so let me just point out that normal people wouldn't react this way; I was a psychologist and was used to hearing these sorts of mental delusionary experiences. Generally, men like the Joker and Bane do not see the world rationally and think that socially deviant acts are more appropriate. They just have a completely different sense of reality than we do. The Joker once told me that he believed he saw the world as it could be, and that he saw it the way he wanted to and he intended to make the world the way he saw it. Yeah, it's a little…oh, I don't know…insane and deranged, but you have to admit, at least he's a functional homicidal maniac.

"Alright, well, I also wanted to apologize for choking you. Unfortunately, I have serious anger management issues that, as you know, are a result of some chemical imbalances in my brain from exposure to an untested drug. Honestly, things that make me angry get intensified to the point of me not actually knowing that I am lashing out. It's something that I really just can't control, and again I'm sorry for doing that. I don't hurt women. I respect women. I especially respect you, Miss Quinzel. You took your kidnapping like a pro." Bane remarked.

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess." Wait, I was flattered by this? Fuck I am weird.

"Let me interject," I looked up at Mr. J as he started talking, "I guess I understand your point and I didn't know about the chemical stuff, but I still am having trouble getting over the fact that you threatened her with violence. And obviously she took her kidnapping well; she learned from the best. Harley's been in situations that no one could even imagine and she is probably the strongest woman I have ever met."

I put a hand over my heart, "What a softie."

"Don't repeat anything I say in this room or I will cut your spinal cord in half." He said shortly.

"Well, if only for a brief, shining moment." I shrugged.

"What a cute couple," Bane drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"We aren't a couple." I corrected.

"Will you stop saying that?" the Joker hissed, "Use it to your advantage."

"There is no way that having a relationship with you is advantageous for me." I said dismissively and turned back to Bane, "Please continue."

"Well, remember what I told you about Bruce and me?" Bane asked in a low voice, glancing up conspiratorially at the Joker, who looked completely confused. It was a great look on him, I assure you. He doesn't look confused often; so when he does, it's pretty hilarious.

I nodded in acknowledgment, "Right. What did you find out?"

"Well, I had it investigated, and it turns out that it isn't true." He said, sighing, "I really thought I had something there, but I guess I will just have to keep searching for my father. I really can't imagine why he'd abandon my mom, but somehow I rationalized it in my head that it could have been him, and when I found out Bruce and I could have been – you know – I was so excited because I actually could have people. You know…real people around me."

"Oh wow, that's a shame." I said, crestfallen, "In some weird way, I had sort of hoped it was true. Everyone needs people. I don't have them anymore and I miss them every day, so I feel for you."

"Thanks, Harley, I appreciate your sympathy. I know you understand."

The Joker watched this exchange, looking hard like he was trying to figure out what we could have been talking about, and I thought it would be funnier just to leave him in the dark for a while.

"Have you told Bruce about it?"

"Well, yeah, he was the one who ordered the test. He hasn't talked to me since we found out."

"I'm sure that hurts you." I commented.

"Well, yes, a bit." He admitted, "I guess deep down what I really wanted was someone to at least care about me. I haven't had any people in a really long time, not since I got out of prison. That Jesuit priest I told you about died a while ago. It was why I came to the United States; that and…well, that whole thing with Bruce too…and I guess I felt like I had some kind of purpose and I feel really lost now. It's a bit rough. I don't know what else to do."

"You have a reason to be here. I don't think you should be exerting violence on people just because you have no…" I hesitated and used the word we had been using instead, "…people right now. It doesn't mean you had to kidnap me, either."

"I told you, I honestly can't control it." He reached in his pocket, and the Joker immediately lifted his gun. Bane looked up at him, "Dude, it's not a gun."

Bane then pulled out a syringe and the Joker rushed to his side, holding the gun to his neck, "If you even put that near my Harley, I will blow your brains out."

"It's my medicine." Bane said calmly, "It keeps me under control. It's only when I forget that I go a little crazy. I guess it happens more than it should. I wish I could figure out what makes me get so angry, and when I am that angry I just go into this blind rage and I don't even know what I'm doing. The medicine usually regulates my anger but not all the time. The researchers at my company are trying to work on the best formula."

"That's rough." I said, "I hope they can. You make yourself sound like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or something."

He chuckled a little, "I guess I do, don't I? Anyway, I really wanted to tell you that I was sorry for what I did and wanted to make sure you were ok about you know…the whole killing that guy thing."

I glanced surreptitiously at the Joker, "Yeah, we've worked that out. I still feel really bad about it, though. No matter how many people you kill, it doesn't get easier."

"It does for me." The Joker said matter-of-factly.

"Well, you're fucking insane." I said smoothly, and turned back to Bane, "I think you and I might still have some morals, unlike this guy. I don't think I'll necessarily forgive you by any means for kidnapping me, but I know that you have your own problems to deal with. As long as you promise never to come here again, I think I can let it go for now."

"Really?" he looked so hopeful that I almost felt bad for him, but then I remembered how he smacked me around and I couldn't really feel too much pity.

"Yes, really," I smiled half-heartedly, "Can you please just go, though? You're kind of stressing me out by being here."

"Of course," Bane said, standing up. The Joker instinctively held up his gun, and Bane raised an eyebrow, "Seriously, man? I am just going to leave. The lady asked me to leave, and I am leaving. You don't have to point that at me."

"Yes, I do."

Bane glanced over at me, "I have to wonder why you are dating this guy, but I feel like that's for another day. Thanks again for listening to me, Harley, and pretty much saving me from getting my ass killed."

"No problem," I shrugged nonchalantly, "I do my best to be a peacekeeper."

"And you do a very good job of it." He smiled, "Alright, well, I'd best be going."

"Bye," I said as he walked out of the apartment and closed the door. I locked it behind him, and turned sharply to face the Joker, "Why do you have to be so impulsive? The guy was just coming here to apologize and then I have to clean up your mess! You were going to kill him for fuck's sake! Don't you realize how mentally unstable he is?"

"I didn't even know what the hell you two were talking about." He said, sulking, "I don't like you having secrets."

"You want to know what the big secret is? He thought Bruce was his half-brother but they took a paternity test and he isn't. The man is disappointed because he never knew his father and his mother died when he was young so he had no family at all! He was just hoping he had a brother so he could have someone around, but no, life had to smack him in the face once again. I hope you feel like a jerk because you know how it feels to have no family!" I fumed.

"Well, so do you."

"YEAH WELL WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?"

He averted my eyes, "Ah yes…that whole business."

"Um, yeah, so I would shut the fuck up if I were you." I snapped.

"Come on, Harley, you're always too naïve. That guy could have broken your neck when you weren't looking. You like to believe everyone is all sunshine and daisies and never wants to hurt you because you're cute and blonde, but that's not how the world works. People want to hurt you. People want to hurt you because you're with me. You put yourself in danger by associating with me."

"Well, I didn't exactly try to do that!" I said, exasperated, "You are just way too damn charismatic."

He winked, "No truer words have been spoken."

I had to smile a little at that, "Jesus, we argue so much."

"It would be worth it if we had angry sex."

"I guess that could fix things for the time being." I admitted, "And you know we're the king and queen of conflict avoidance."

He embraced me tightly, "You want to know something?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"I already know that."

"Just want to tell you again." He said, kissing the top of my head.

"Well, ok, thanks." I said awkwardly.

One thing that I liked about him was that he never expected me to say it back.

…

About an hour later, we were lying in the bed, naked and relaxing. I intertwined my finger through his, "I forgot to tell you something earlier."

"Oh God, what could it be?" he groaned, slinking under the covers.

I pulled them off of him, "Pam and Selina are getting married."

"They can do that?"

"Apparently," I said, sighing.

"You don't sound happy about it at all."

"How could you possibly guess that?"

"Because I am bilingual in English and sarcasm," he retorted.

"I speak Spanish and Greek." I said.

"You do?" he sat up, amused, "You never told me that."

"Yeah, my grandparents were Greek so I spoke it to communicate with them. I'm a bit rusty but I still could carry on a conversation, and Spanish was my minor in college." I said, "It's no big deal."

"I wish I had known. I have cohorts that speak Spanish and I can't fucking talk to them. You are much more useful than I thought." He grinned.

"Oh, so I have a doctorate degree and good looks for nothing then." I pouted.

"I didn't mean it like that…"

"Whatever. Let's get back on Pam and Selina. I don't think they should get married."

"Well, obviously you think that. You hate the institution of marriage in general." He sighed, reaching over me and fumbling around in the bedside table for his cigarettes. He offered me one, and I waved at him dismissively, "I've told you a million times that I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, and lit one.

"And I don't hate the institution of marriage. Where the hell did you get that from?" I folded my arms across my chest and watched his immediately go downward, "I will put my bra on if this is too distracting."

"Oh, please don't. I will try to stop being distracted. You just have an amazing rack."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm so flattered. Anyway, I want to know what made you think that I hate marriage so much."

"You've said 'you know what, Mr. J, I hate marriage' about 100 times and 'people are stupid to get married' and 'being married only makes everyone miserable', among many other brilliant and sophisticated statements." He said, taking a long drag, "I, for one, believe you hate marriage because neither of your marriages has worked out."

I stared at him for a moment and went silent until he looked at me, and said, "Seriously, do you really want to go there?"

"…actually, no, I think I'll stop now."

"That's a very good idea. And yes, neither of my engagements has worked out, because oh wait, you blew one of my fiancés up and then walked in on the other one and made me leave." I said, voice rising with emotion.

"You went with me of your own free will." He replied.

"Excuse me; you forced me by threatening me and Bruce with a gun. Not exactly of my own free will, I have to say. Yes, I left Bruce on my own the third time, but that wasn't because of you. I just knew we would never be able to work it out if you were still in the picture."

"That sounds like it was because of me." He commented.

"No, not at all; I just figured that Bruce and I breaking up was going to be a lot easier than trying to get rid of you. I knew you were going to follow us to the ends of the earth trying to get me back so I'd probably just end up with you anyway. It was sort of inevitable." I shrugged.

"Are you trying to say that you broke up with Bruce…for me?" I had never seen him smile so big in my entire time knowing him. It almost warmed my heart.

"Not in so many words." I mumbled.

"Harley…" He put his cigarette down and put his arm around me, "That is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. You picked me over a billionaire. It means a lot."

"Yeah, well, I guess I like you." I said, wrapping my arms around his chest, "Hon, you really need to start eating. I can feel your ribs."

"I eat."

"Yeah, one hamburger a day or one bowl of cereal. I will buy some god damn groceries for God's sake. There's a bodega like a block away. You just need to tell me what you want."

"Thanks for caring." He tried to be sarcastic but it came out sounding very grateful which I am sure he did not intend.

"I do my best." I smiled, "But, back to my point. I think Pam is being way too impulsive. How does she even know Selina cares about her? They've only been together for like 2 months. That's not nearly enough time to fall in love with someone."

"Well, you fell in love with Bruce in like 5 minutes."

"Lies, calumny and slander," I said, irritated, "Bruce and I dated for quite a while before he proposed to me. John and I maybe had a short engagement but I don't give a shit. It wasn't a month."

"I thought you said two months."

"It's like the same thing!" I threw my hands up in the air in frustration, "It's a really short period of time, thank you very much! This is ridiculous!"

"You are just mad about them getting married because your weddings sucked. Be a supportive friend and just shut up." He said shortly.

"That is the shortest analysis of any problem I have ever heard." I said thoughtfully, "You know what? I'm not even mad, I'm just impressed. So many years of college education have made me into too critical a thinker."

"See? Sometimes college is a detriment to your life."

"Well, considering I wasted hundreds of thousands of dollars on my education that I am not using, I suppose I have to find some way to make it a detriment." I sighed, "I don't know. I just don't want to see Pam make a mistake and then come crying to me about it, which I know she will."

"How do you know that it's a mistake? And even if it is, then you are her friend and you need to be there for her. You don't know how lucky you are to actually have a friend. I don't think I've ever even had a best friend in my entire life."

"That's really sad." I said, embracing him.

He shoved me away, "Hey, hey, no sympathy. I was a weird kid. I wasn't that surprised no one hung out with me."

"I can't picture you as a child." I said, amused, "May I ask, did you ever dress up as a clown for Halloween?"

He smacked me with a pillow so hard I fell off the bed.


	17. That Girl's Not Right in the Brain

**A/N: Yeah, well, I did something sort of unexpected in this chapter. I just keep putting Harley through the mill and she keeps bouncing back. I am a masochistic author and can't keep her happy for long. It makes it entertaining for everyone. Enjoy! **

Chapter 17: That Girl's Not Right in the Brain

_Well I'm asking you_

_Cause she's got nothing to say_

_The angels just cut out her tongue_

_Call her black Mariah, would I lie to you?_

_That girl's not right in the brain_

"_Hang 'em High," My Chemical Romance_

To spare you the little details about the months leading up to Pam and Selina's wedding, I will start at the week before, which came to be known as Hell Week, or the week Harley had to schlep everything but the kitchen sink around with her getting ready for Pam's wedding. The soiree was going to be taking place in Central Park and the cocktail hour at the Plaza Hotel. I had to give it to Pam; even though she and Selina were known hardened criminals, they still had to have their wedding in the most public venue as humanly possible.

This particular afternoon, Pam was striding in a fast pace down 7th avenue, me trying to juggle a hot latte and Pam's ever-growing amount of shopping bags.

"Ok, so we confirmed with the florist," she was saying as I held out my maid of honor checklist.

"Check," I replied.

"We confirmed with the caterers, and you told them red wine, not white? You know Selina hates anything white."

"Yes and yes."

"You are picking up your dress at the bridal salon Thursday with me, right?"

"Indeed I am." I said, "And you have your final fitting Wednesday at 10 AM, remember."

"GOD THAT'S TOMORROW?" She stopped dead in her tracks, "Jesus Christ, fuck me!"

A couple of elderly ladies passing by stared at us in horror and walked away as quickly as their elderly legs could.

"Now you're terrifying old people. Congratulations." I couldn't help but chuckle, "And yeah, I texted you last night about it because they called me to confirm the appointments. Where are you going to be at 10 AM tomorrow?"

"That's when I scheduled the meeting with the bakery for the cake and desserts! I was supposed to go with Selina!" Pam threw her hands up in the air in frustration, "FUCK MY LIFE I AM SO STUPID!"

"Come on, Pam, you're just overbooked. I would suggest I just try on your wedding dress, but unfortunately you are much bustier and hippier than I am."

"Now you're calling me fat? You are the worst maid of honor ever!" she began sobbing.

This tended to happen spontaneously over the course of the last weeks. Pam was never one who cried; she only cried when it was utterly unnecessary to cry, like she was doing right now.

"Pam, you know you're beautiful. You know I'd fuck you, girl." I said, patting her on the shoulder.

A couple of guido-looking men stopped in front of us, and grinned lasciviously.

"Keep moving, you creeps!" Pam snapped.

"Yeah, fuck off!" I chimed.

"Man, we're never going to get in a foursome." One of the dudes muttered to the other as they walked away.

"Does everyone think I am a lesbian?" Pam howled, crying more.

I handed her a Kleenex, "Well, dear, you obviously are. You are marrying a woman in a week."

"Selina is the man in this relationship." She sniffled.

"Really?" I paused for a moment, "I guess I never really thought about it."

"Well, she's always on top…"

"WOAH NO, NO, NO!" I held up my fingers like the sign of the cross, "Don't need to hear about that at all, please."

"Alright, sorry," Pam sighed, "I can't help but be stressed. I thought planning a wedding would be much easier."

"I've done it twice. You always think it is going to be easier than what it turns out to be." I said sagely, "Now, let's keep moving. We're not going to get things done by standing here crying about it. Come along."

I looped my arm loosely through hers, and we walked down the street, keeping our chatting to more amiable things. I almost didn't notice my cell ringing in my purse.

"Oh, fudge!" I scrambled to find it in my purse, and picked it up without looking at the caller ID, "What's up?"

"Harley?"

I almost dropped the phone as I recognized the voice. I hadn't heard that voice in months, and probably hadn't planned on hearing it ever again. It was Bruce.

"Give me one good reason not to hang up right now." I snapped. Pam glanced over at me quizzically and I just shook my head in annoyance, mouthing 'it's Bruce'. She raised her eyebrows.

"I need to talk to you." He was saying.

"I don't think that's good enough."

"You haven't hung up on me, have you?" I could almost see him smirking on the other end, which infuriated me.

"I guess you've got me there." I admitted, "Seriously, though, I'm super busy right now planning for Pam's wedding so I can't really talk."

"Yeah, I know they're getting married. They invited me."

"Hold on," I said, turning on Pam with a glare like venom, hissing, "You invited him to the wedding without asking me?"

"Selina wanted him there. What was I going to do?" Pam shrugged.

"We'll talk later." I said dismissively, and got back on the phone with Bruce, "Sorry, just had to kill Pam. Are you planning on going?"

"Well, that was what I wanted to ask you. Is it ok if I go? If it isn't, I'm not going to come. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"God, Bruce, I don't fucking know." I sighed. Was this seriously happening to me? I swear my life is like a soap opera, "It's up to you, I guess. If you really want to come, I'm not going to stop you. You need to live your life without worrying about me."

"Is he going to be there?"

"No, he isn't. He can't risk being out in public. Either that or he is just making an excuse not to come." I replied, "So, no, you won't run into him."

"I figured he wouldn't. I would kind of have had no choice but to beat the crap out of him. Well, that's all I wanted to know. Are you going to at least acknowledge me if I come?"

"Yeah, I guess. I really think we're past all that drama. We need to be adults about it. Never mind the weirdness that you are going to the wedding of the girl you cheated on me with and in which my best friend is marrying and I am the maid of honor. Such is my pathetic life." I had to smile a little at the ridiculousness of it all, "I guess I will see you there, then."

"Thanks, Harley; I really, really appreciate it. Tell Pam I will be there."

"I will. See you later." I said.

"Ok, bye, Harley."

We hung up. I calmly put my phone back in my purse, and glanced at Pam. She was trying very hard to avoid eye contact with me.

"You have got to be kidding me." I said loudly to get her attention.

"I'm sorry, babe, Selina wanted to invite him! I didn't know what to do!" Pam groaned, "You know how she is! She wouldn't take no for an answer. I told her you didn't want him there but I figured since Mr. J wasn't going to show up that you would be a little more ok with it."

"Well, I'm not saying that I'm that upset about it, but I don't exactly prefer to be talking to him. He sort of took my heart and stomped the ever-loving shit out of it." I said wryly, "I guess I need to face it sooner or later. It's been long enough."

"Yes, exactly," Pam said, nodding vehemently, "You've been mourning it for a while and I know it's hard to come face-to-face with lost love, but you know you were going to run into him. It was inevitable. I know you and the man have been staying low lately to avoid it, but you can't keep holding yourselves back because of it."

"I just don't know what to tell Mr. J. Should I tell him he'll be there? He won't let me go, then. I just hate lying to him now. Before it wasn't that big of a deal, but now that we're actually getting along, it seems like a shitty thing to do." I massaged my throbbing temples, "I'm getting a headache just trying to deal with all of this."

Pam put her arm around my shoulder, "Harley, I think in this case you're just going to have to lie to him. You're my maid of honor. You have to be at my wedding. Sometimes lying is the only way to keep things status quo. I won't tell him and neither will Selina, I promise."

"Thanks," I said, "But, I just want to know why Selina wanted to invite him. Did she want to piss me off?"

"Well, she did invite Bruce Wayne, not Batman, you know. It's a whole different thing. Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne know each other, but Catwoman and Batman don't. It makes sense for her to invite him as himself." Pam and I stopped at the coffee shop to refuel.

"I guess that sort of makes sense in a very, very strange way." I affirmed.

We ordered our coffees and then sat down, setting our multitude of bags at our feet.

"Remember, we are marrying as Pamela Isley and Selina Kyle, not as Poison Ivy and Catwoman." Pam said, sipping her coffee, and grimacing, "Damn it, it's always too hot. I just want you to know that, Harley. We don't consider ourselves as our alter egos. We are who we were born as in our wedding. You need to separate those two identities in your mind."

"I guess I just didn't consider it. It's hard to do that, though, when you live your life as two people. I suppose in a way I always think of myself as being Harley Quinn, not Dr. Quinzel anymore. I haven't been her in a long time." I cradled my coffee in my hands.

"I know. I go through the same thing every day. I know how that feels. Just keep that in your mind when you see him. He's coming as Bruce Wayne. That is who we want at our wedding. Believe me, I was totally shocked that Lina suggested it, but I can't really tell her that what not do on her wedding day. It's her day, too, and I have to respect that. We fought about it for a while, but she ended up winning." Pam shrugged, "She's very persuasive. You have time to prepare yourself for it, and you just need to your mind busy as the day approaches. You know we both will be."

"Pam, why are you good at making me feel better? You should be my therapist." I marveled.

"I have been since I met you." She grinned.

…

I went home feeling in better spirits than before, even though I was nervous about him finding out that Bruce would be at the wedding. Somehow I just knew that he was going to figure it out because I have the worst poker face humanly possible. As I climbed the stairs to the apartment, I finally decided that I was not going to tell him. It seemed like a terrible idea. I really didn't want him to say that I couldn't go to Pam's wedding; because Pam would freak the fuck out if I couldn't, considering the hysterical bridezilla she had become.

When I went into the apartment, he wasn't home; I could tell by the complete silence that accompanied my entrance. It smelled faintly of smoke in there. The Joker only smoked for two reasons: post-coital and stress. And since we didn't have sex this morning, it meant he was stressed about something. I immediately felt my heart race a little, hoping he wasn't going to psycho on Bruce. I knew I had to check.

I pulled out my cell, and called Bruce, waiting impatiently for him to answer. He picked up after a couple rings, "Wayne Enterprises, Bruce Wayne speaking."

"Bruce, you're alive!" I cried in relief.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?" he inquired.

"I was just freaking out because I thought he found out about you coming to the wedding. He isn't here right now and that never bodes well." I plopped down on the couch ungracefully, "Fuck, I am a huge mess."

He laughed, "I can see that. And I thought I was the one that was more depressed over our breakup. Ask Alfred; I didn't leave my room for days."

"Don't try to make me pity you, please." I rolled my eyes, "While I have you on the phone, I wanted to make sure that you knew that Bane showed up here."

"Jesus, what did he do?" Bruce sounded concerned.

"Nothing; he just wanted to apologize for kidnapping me, I guess." I couldn't believe how nonchalant I sounded saying that. I am becoming desensitized to all violence, I swear.

"Oh well, I'm glad he didn't do something violent. He was really pissed that we didn't end up being related."

"Well, obviously," I said, "It meant a lot to him to have a family."

"Um, I prefer that psychopath not be my brother. You do not want to cross him when he's off his meds. I don't think I would want to be responsible for that."

"I see your point." I bit my lip, "That would kind of suck for you. How did he react when they told him?"

"He started screaming and almost throttled the doctor. I had to pry him away before they called the cops. I brought him home and just told him that I didn't have any reason to talk to him anymore and he should just move on with his life. He responded by breaking my leg."

"He what?" I sat up in shock, "Oh my God, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm still wearing a brace. I haven't been able to get out and fight, which is driving me insane. Alfred won't let me out of his sight except when I go to work. He takes me to work every single day at 8 AM and he's here every single day at 5 PM waiting in the town car to make sure I come home. It's aggravating, but he has the best of intentions at heart."

"Aw, you poor thing," I chuckled. Ok, wait, what the hell am I doing, talking to Bruce like we're best friends? This was a really, really bad idea.

"Uh, look Bruce, I need to go. I probably shouldn't have called anyway, but I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead." I said awkwardly, "I'll talk to you later, bye."

He started to say something but I hung up before he could get a word in edgewise.

I'm stupid. I'm really fucking stupid. I can't believe I just called Bruce instead of the Joker. That was a stupid move. I blame Pam for this. I wouldn't have had to talk to Bruce if Pam would just stand up to her fiancé. I still hated Selina with blind rage, but I had to pretend that I gave a shit about her for Pam's sake. Dumb bitch.

I knew I had to get my shit together. I erased my phone history; the Joker tended to check it from time to time. As I was trying to go through my contacts to call Pam, Bruce texted me, 'Way to hang up on me.'

I stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. I finally replied, 'Sorry I really can't talk to you. He'll be home soon and I can't risk it. I'll talk to you at the wedding.'

After a couple minutes, he finally responded, 'Fine.'

I knew he was pissed at me, but really, why should I care? He was the one who cheated on me. He was trying to make me feel bad, that ass-hole. Why should I feel bad for him? I knew I had to pretend that I liked him for a day and pretend that he and Pam's future wife did not sleep together behind my back. It was a little difficult, if you must know.

Right now, all I could do was just ignore everything that had just happened and push it deep down inside. I am really healthy, I know.


	18. Marry You

**A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of this part. I know, scary right? I can't believe it's almost over. Believe me, the ending is going to be epic. Maybe I'm overselling it but I think what I have planned is pretty sweet. Not going to lie to you people. Enjoy and R&R PLEASE! Love you all!**

Chapter 18: Marry You

_It's a beautiful night_

_We're looking for something dumb to do_

_Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you_

"_Marry You", Bruno Mars _

-Pam and Selina's Wedding Day, 7:30 AM-

I awoke groggily to my alarm clock, slamming it hard in protest that it fell to the floor with a loud clang. Well, this morning was already going swimmingly. I rolled over, and moved my arms in a circling motion, realizing yet again that my bed was empty. I had seen neither hide nor hair of Mr. J since I came home that night a week ago. I had frantically made phone calls, text messages, went to the warehouse…all turned up nada. No one knew where the hell he had disappeared to. Mr. J wasn't exactly the best at communicating his whereabouts, but it was not like him to just take off with literally no one knowing about it. I was beyond worry and into numbness at this point because I needed to get to Pam and Selina's wedding and be a maid of honor.

I pushed myself out of bed, and made myself a quick breakfast before pulling on some sweatpants and an old NYU T-shirt. I was meeting Pam at the salon to get our hair and nails done at 8, so I had to get moving. I hastily put my purse together and left the apartment, running down the stairs to catch a cab to get me into Manhattan.

I made it to the salon by the skin of my teeth; when I went into the salon the clock said 7:59. Pam was already there in the chair, waiting for her hairdresser. She gestured for me to come over, "Hey girl, I thought you'd never get here!"

"Yeah sorry, I woke up a little later than I wanted to," I sat down next to her, putting my purse on the ground, "How are you doing?"

"Great! I'm so excited!" Pam smiled widely, a look of genuine happiness that I hadn't seen on her face in a long time, "Selina is getting her hair done right about now too. She spent the night at her apartment so we wouldn't see each other. But don't let me gush about this, you've had enough I'm sure. What's going on with Mr. J?"

"Honestly, I have no clue." I said in exasperation, "I've been glued to my phone for the past week hoping to hear from him. If this is his idea of punishing me for something, it's working."

"Well, he's just being an ass." Pam said, shaking her head.

"Has he contacted you or Selina at all?" I asked.

"Why would he contact us if he isn't even talking to his bodyguards or anyone at the warehouse?"

"That's a good point." I admitted.

"I'm sure it's going to be fine. He'll show up sooner or later and just be like, 'hey, what's up?' You know that." Pam shrugged, "He just likes being difficult. That shouldn't surprise you."

"Oh, I know that." I affirmed, "That's not what I'm that upset about. It's just that all that debacle with Bruce is making me concerned. Did you tell him that you invited Bruce?"

"I already told you, no. Why the fuck would I do that?" Pam frowned, "I'm not as stupid as you seem to think I am. I tell him things that he should know, not things that would piss him off."

"Sometimes the two coincide."

"True," she looked up, "Our hairdressers are coming. We'd better lay low on the villain talk. Let's keep to neutral topics."

I nodded in acknowledgment.

We smiled at the women as they stood behind our chairs and gabbed about the wedding for the next 45 minutes. They then ushered us into the comfy chairs where we started to get our pedicures; Pam got her usual solid emerald green but with some silver sparkles this time to match her wedding dress better, and I got red to match my bridesmaid dress. Pam inspected the manicurist as we got our nails done; she whispered, "She's going to rip my damn cuticles off. I'm not going to the emergency room to stop the bleeding on my wedding day."

"Why don't you just tell her instead of whispering at me?" I replied in a similar fashion.

Pam then turned to the lady, "No more cuticles. Just do the nails. We're on a tight schedule."

The manicurist nodded and mumbled something in Russian to the one doing my nails, and they looked up at us as if we even tried to understand them.

Pam and I just shook our heads at each other, and once our nails were done, we paid and left. Pam called the town car which was going to take us to her apartment so that we could ready and then take us to Central Park around noon. The ceremony was going to be at 1 PM. Pam was getting stressed about the time crunch, and I told her she needed to calm her ass down. I know it was her wedding day, but geez, she needed a muscle relaxant or some shit but I didn't want her to end up like Molly Ringwald's sister in Sixteen Candles. Screw you, my childhood was in the 80's ok?

The town car showed up and we were on the way to Pam's apartment. When I say apartment, I mean Pam was living in the penthouse suite at a hotel on 7th Avenue. She was paying for her stay in cash and had been for months; I will never understand how that staff didn't think that was suspicious in the slightest. I guess they just figured she was some rich heiress trying to get away from Daddy or something like that. We arrived at the hotel, and got in the elevator.

Once we got to Pam's apartment and Pam was going into her room to get her wedding dress and my dress, my phone rang. Seeing that it was an unlisted number, I ignored it.

Pam came out, my dress slung over her arm, "Who was that?"

"I don't know, probably a telemarketer." I said dismissively.

In retrospect, I wish I hadn't been that naïve. I wish I had picked up the phone. Things would have turned out so much differently if I had. But now I couldn't go back. I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Here, you get dressed first, because mine is going to take longer." She said, and I went in the bathroom. I stripped down and got into the dress. I had to admit, I looked damn good in it. It was short – but not hooker short – was red, and one-shouldered; I paired it with some high black and black pumps and black stone dangling earrings, and I emerged from the bathroom ready to go.

Pam immediately began to cry, "Oh Harley, you look so beautiful! I'm going to look like a total schlump!"

"Oh honey, no! No crying yet, please!" I rushed to her side, "Good thing you haven't put on your makeup yet."

She wiped her eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm just so emotional. I'm so happy right now and I don't know what to do with the excess feelings. I'm not used to being this happy."

"That's a good thing." I said, embracing her, "Come on, let's get you dressed so you can get married, ok?"

She nodded, sniffling, "Ok."

We went into her room, where her dress was sprawled across her bed. It was a beautiful strapless gown, sweetheart neckline and very fitted with a light green tint to it. It fit her personality perfectly. I helped her into the dress, and zipped it up. Pam slipped on her green sparkling high-heels and we checked her out in the mirror.

"Damn, look at you." I said, hugging her from around the waist.

She beamed at her reflection, "Damn, look at us. I never thought this day would come."

"What do you mean?" I asked, letting her go.

"I just never thought I would get married, not after everything I've been through." She shook her head in disbelief, and opened her mouth to say something, but looked toward the living room, "I think your phone is ringing."

I rushed out of the room and into the living room, checking my cell. It was the same unlisted number. Aggravated, I ignored it and went back into Pam's room, "Same stupid telemarketer. They always seem to call when I have better things to do."

Again, I'm an idiot. Let me just point that out.

…

-Pam and Selina's Wedding Day, 12:30 PM-

After much primping and bitching (on the part of Pamela), we made it into the town car that was going to take us to Central Park. Everything was going along smoothly until we hit uptown Manhattan, where we ran into massive traffic.

Pam probably went into cardiac arrest for a minute, "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?"

"It's just traffic. We could always just pull a Carrie from Sex and the City and run out of the cab in your wedding dress." I suggested.

Pam just gave me the biggest and scariest death glare I had ever seen in response.

She knocked on the window separating us from the driver and he rolled it down, "I'm sorry, ladies, they said some crazy ass-hole is blocking the main intersection."

Pam and I shared an uneasy glance.

"You don't think…?" she asked quietly.

"No, it can't be. It's probably just a car accident or something. It happens all the time; these are really busy streets." I assured her, hardly believing myself as I said it. But damn it, it was Pam's wedding and we had to keep it together.

I had to keep it together.

I grasped Pam's hand, "You know, we only have a couple blocks to go. We can walk really fast and get there in plenty of time."

"I shouldn't have to walk on my god damn wedding day." Pam grumbled, and she leaned forward and said to the driver, "We're getting out here. I'll pay you later."

"Alright," he barely could get out as Pam opened the door and stepped out. I followed suit, and we ignored all the beeping horns and catcalls from onlookers and went as fast we could go in heels toward Central Park.

"Almost there, almost there," I kept chanting as we got closer. Pam's phone started ringing, and I picked it up, "Hello?"

"Harley?" It was Selina. She sounded ridiculously frazzled, which was something completely new for me, "Where are you guys? It's like 12:55. Everyone is already here!"

"We had to walk. Long story, I'm really sorry," I said, out of breath, "We're going to be there in like 5 minutes, I promise!"

"Ok, I just have one question for you."

"Yeah?"

"How does she look?"

"She looks stunning. You're marrying the hottest woman in New York." I said, glancing at Pam, who despite her legitimate fury, had to smile.

"Thanks, Harley." Selina said, and hung up.

We finally made it to the ceremony, and everyone looked up as we rushed onto the scene. About 50 people were there, sitting in their chairs, and with one noticeable absence: Bruce. I leaned over and asked Pam, "Where the hell is he? After all that emotional crap he put me through, he'd better at least show up."

"I don't know. He never said anything about not coming. Honestly, I don't care right now. I need to get married." Pam said firmly, straightening her birdcage veil. She nodded at the conductor of the string quartet, who was lined up near the altar, and they started to play Pachelbel's Canon in D. Yeah, a little traditional, but it was what she wanted.

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, "Ok, let's do this."

I squeezed it back, and nodded. As we walked up the aisle, I saw some semi-familiar faces. I knew some people were co-workers of Selina, both of them had a few assorted aunts, uncles, and cousins, and a couple of villains of Gotham who will remain nameless for the sake of their privacy. I kind of had a fleeting hope that a certain villain would have risked it for me, but he was nowhere to be seen. I swallowed my anger, and kept a calm face as we stopped at the front of the aisle on the right side of the minister.

The song came to a crescendo as Selina walked in; I heard Pam inhale sharply. I'm pretty sure that she was already starting to tear up and that made me feel emotional, too. I'm a very sympathetic crier. Selina was in a silk, long-sleeved shift-like dress; it had a black lace detail on the collar, sleeves, and skirt. She had on black high heels and a black birdcage veil. It was very her. I looked over at Pam, who was watching her, mesmerized and tears running down her face. I had never seen Pam look so utterly happy in the entire time I had known her. It warmed my heart, really.

As the ceremony wore on, I glanced toward the honking cars not too far away. No one had really figured out what was going on; I couldn't help but feel that some of the men in my life were involved in it. I felt it deep in my gut, but I had to keep my smile on. It wasn't that hard, considering the happy occasion that I was witnessing.

The minister began having them repeat their wedding vows, "In sickness and in health…"

I looked out toward the audience, and I was taken aback when I saw a man in black running towards the ceremony. I tried not to show that anything was wrong so as not to distract, but Pam and Selina were preoccupied, staring at each other and saying their vows.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Selina said as she put the ring on Pam's trembling finger.

The man was getting closer. I could see he was dressed in black leather and had a very decisively-shaped mask. Oh Jesus.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Pam said as she did the same to Selina.

"Now, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss the bride…brides." The minister corrected, and everyone but me chuckled.

Everyone in the audience clapped and cheered as they kissed, and the applause died down as the man in black ran down the aisle, "You all need to get out of here now!"

Batman stood there, staring at the three of us, Pam and Selina still in each other's arms, "I'm sorry to ruin this day for you ladies, but you need to run." He turned to the people who were watching in complete confusion, "You need to get somewhere safe immediately. Go to your homes, get out of the city, I don't care; just get out of here!"

People started to file out, muttering amongst themselves until it was just us standing there.

"Pam, Selina…you better get to Pam's. Don't take 7th Avenue, find some other way around. Harley, you need to come with me." Bruce grabbed my hand, and started to pull me away, "You look gorgeous, by the way."

"Well thanks," I blushed, but regained composure, "Hey, hey, what the hell is going on?" I shoved him away from me, "I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me!"

"Bane stopped taking his medication and he's gone fucking insane. He's blocking all the traffic and generally wreaking havoc upon our fair citizens, and of course, it's my job yet again to clean it up." Bruce sighed.

"Then why the hell am I getting involved?"

"I think he might listen to you."

"Ok, so if he's gone utterly berserk, how do you expect him to stop and listen to me? I'm a psychologist, not a god damn miracle worker." I snapped, "I don't appreciate you coming down here and ruining this day. Pam is probably pitching a bitch fit right now."

"I don't give a shit about Pam!" Bruce shot back, "What I give a shit about is saving people from Bane's wrath! Are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine, but I'm not-" Bruce had already started pulling me away towards his car, "-making any promises!"

…

Once we had gotten into the Batmobile and were buckled in safely, I asked, "Wait, how are we getting to Bane if the traffic is all backed up?"

Bruce merely pushed a button on his left side, and a circle of dynamite burst out from under the car and we dropped into the underground road beneath 7th Avenue.

I sat there for a moment, and finally said, "Oh."

Bruce smirked, so ridiculously smug, "I've got it covered."

"You just caused a major pothole now." I pointed out.

"I've got people on it."

I rolled my eyes, "Always so prepared, just like a Boy Scout."

"You know I was never a Boy Scout."

"Somehow I would have thought differently." I mused.

We finally got to the scene of the ruckus, and Bruce and I got out of the car. He shot his grappling hook to the circular sewer drain directly above us, and easily pulled it down. It landed with a loud clang next to my feet, causing me to squeal and jump nearly a foot in the air.

"Come on, Harley, nothing I do should scare you by now." He said gruffly, and he handed me the rope attached to the grappling hook, "Ladies first."

I glared at him, and grabbed the rope, climbing up. Thank God I possessed some amount of arm strength or this would have been really difficult. I felt awkward when I was climbing because I knew Bruce could see up my dress, but I figured in the long run it didn't matter that much. I climbed out of the hole left by the drain, and threw the rope back down to him. He climbed in probably half the time that I did. Damn him and his disgustingly glorious arm muscles. Focus, Harley, focus.

He stored away the grappling hook, and looked at me expectantly, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I replied, shrugging.

We went in a quick stride down the street toward the honking horns, screaming people, and overall chaos that went with a villain's rampage. It is truly amazing how people will fall to pieces if just one thing goes wrong. I used to be like them, I know. I used to be that person that if I was 5 minutes for late for work any given day. I would be cursing people out, but right now I have learned to take what life throws at me and move on. I wish I didn't have to be this callous, but I am. That's the way this life has made me, and I can't go back now.

Bruce and I turned the corner and were met with a total nightmare. People were abandoning their cars now, pulling their wailing children out of car seats, and people who were injured were either limping or crawling away. It was actually kind of terrifying. I had never been in the middle of a mob before, but I knew that I should feel somewhat safe because I was with Bruce. Well, of course the keyword there is 'should'.

Bruce grabbed my hand, and tugged me through the crowd coming at me; I was starting to get anxious. I was actually kind of claustrophobic and this wasn't doing anything for my nerves. I clung onto Bruce for dear life, and people stopped and stared at us.

"Oh my God, it's the Batman!"

"Wow, look guys, Batman's here to help!"

"Who's that with him? It looks like his ex-girlfriend…"

"Get him, Batman!" People were starting to cheer us on.

I could almost see Bruce smile underneath his mask; it was something he did not do often when he was Batman. It sort of ruined his image. I knew how much being Batman meant to him. It scared that maybe he wasn't going to be like this forever. I suppose he had to deal with it eventually, but he wasn't prepared for it at all. I hoped that someday soon he would find someone to take over for him. I could see that he was panting a little, a sign of his complete exhaustion. His body was letting him down. He had been beat up and down, and he needed to relax, but he would never do that. He loved being a hero too much for that.

"Well, Mr. Wayne, the people seem to love you." I said quietly.

He looked down at me, and searched my eyes. I don't know what he was looking for, but suddenly his eyes were alight and he opened his mouth to say something. However, his potential speech was interrupted by a car hurtling toward us.


	19. Not Leaving Without You

**A/N: ****AW guys I cranked it out. I had it in my mind it had to be done. Man oh man, this was such an epic installment. But believe me, my lovely readers, this is not the end for Mad Love. Part 5 is going to be written. I have a title already, it will be called: "Light this Fuse". I have not yet decided if it will be the last installment of the series, I just kinda want it to be like Star Wars and make it to six parts because I'm a nerd like that. Oh well. Thank you all for sticking with the series thus far, and keep on the lookout for Part 5! - Kelztastic**

Chapter 19: Not Leaving Without You

_You taste like whiskey when you kiss me, oh_

_I'd give anything again to be your baby doll_

_And this time I'm not leaving without you._

"_You and I", Lady Gaga _

"HOLY SHIT!" I shrieked as Bruce shoved me out of the way as the car came to a deafening crash not even two feet away from us.

After I had caught my breath and got my heart to not jump out of my chest, I said, "Thanks for that. I think I may have died."

"See, you don't have the reflexes that you think you do." Bruce grinned.

"I have absolutely never deluded myself to believe that I had reflexes. I can't even walk down the street without tripping on myself." I said, dead-pan.

"That is true," he said fondly, and he stared at me for a long moment. He leaned forward, close to me, and my eyes widened as I realized what he was about to do.

I gently pushed him away, "We have to get Bane now."

"Oh, right," Bruce stiffened, "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine," I said dismissively.

He took off down the street and I followed as fast as I could in my heels. I soon came to the conclusion that my feet were going to hurt like hell if I kept on doing this, so I stopped and took them off, carrying them in my hands like I was doing a Run of Shame down 7th Avenue.

We got to the scene of the crime (excuse me for the cliché) and I was completely overwhelmed and horrified at what I saw. Bane was standing there, something large and heavy-looking raised above his head. He had completely changed in appearance; he had grown at least a foot in height, the muscles on his torso and arms were bulging and veined, his head was shaved and a gas mask covered the lower half of his face. He looked like the Hulk come alive. I gasped audibly, and covered my hands over my mouth. He was a monster.

Suddenly, he looked toward us and his eyes narrowed venomously. He started stomping down toward us, people screaming as they ran out of his path.

"Oh my God," I could hear Bruce say next to me, "Harley, you need to get out of here now. Forget what I said. You need to go."

"You wanted me here, I'm staying here!" I shouted over the din, "I'm going to help him!"

"God damn it, Harley, are you insane?" Bruce pulled me in close to him, "Don't you even know how I feel about you? I can't watch you die! I still love you!"

He then fiercely kissed me, and I struggled against him. He wouldn't release me, so all I could do was slap him hard in the face. That got his attention.

"What the hell?" he rubbed his cheek.

"Don't you dare do this to me again!" I screamed, " I can't believe you! Fuck this shit! You want to know something, Bruce? When I found out you cheated on me, I was so angry I could have killed you! But you know what I realized now? I realized that I was so stupid to even give a shit about you! I can't even bother to care about a man who doesn't even love me enough to stay faithful to me! And you think that I don't belong with the Joker? Well, you know what, let me make my own god damn decisions! You know what? I've had sex with him! A LOT! And you know what else? I FUCKING LIKED IT YOU ASS-HOLE!"

Bruce just stood there in complete shock. I think people passing by really wanted to stop and watch this drama, but they may have been too scared by the giant human being crumpling cars in the palm of his hand.

My voice was wearing out from all the enraged screaming and tears were streaming down my face without abandon, but I had to keep ranting, "I live with him and I like it! I want to be around him! I don't care if he treats me like shit, but at least he never faltered in his love for me, unlike SOMEONE I KNOW. And you know what else? I'm freaking out that I haven't seen or talked to him in a week because I don't want him to leave me! I can't be left again! And you know why I care so much? You know why? IT'S BECAUSE I LOVE HIM! There, I said it. I finally said it! I LOVE HIM!"

I paused, doubled over in pain from sobbing, "Oh my God…"

Bruce's fists were balled and he stared at the ground, "Well, if you wanted to piss me off, oh you did it."

"I'm sorry," I said hoarsely, "I'm so sorry."

"Well, Harley, you know what? You're a –"

His voice was cut off as Bane punched him across the face, "Take that, you son of a bitch!" His voice was all garbled through the gas mask, but I could certainly hear those words clearly.

Bruce went flying across the street and landed in a heap of crushed cars. I almost rushed forward to help him, but Bane put his arm out, winding me and knocking me on my ass. His arm was like a boulder.

I struggled to get up, "Bane, why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because I have nothing else to live for!" he snapped.

"What happened to you? Why did you stop taking your medication?" I asked, brushing the dirt off my dress, but it was to no avail. I had to accept the fact that this dress was ruined, along with this day, "Bane, I can't believe you. I just saw you and you were fine. I thought you got some help."

I think I got to the real Bane inside all of that bulk, "I tried everything, Harley, but I gave up. I saw three different psychologists, but nothing worked. I couldn't shake the fact that I don't have a father and he abandoned me. I stopped taking my medication because I just didn't care anymore."

"Didn't you know that it had these consequences?" I surveyed him cautiously, "And could you please not hurt me?"

"I'm going to try not to, but I can't make any promises. My rage is all held for Bruce. I would suggest you get the hell out of here before I turn again. It can happen at any moment." He began to shake, "Like right now…it's happening…fuck, get out of here now Harley!"

I moved out of the way as Bruce managed to come back, and Bane was beating the ever-loving shit out of him. Bruce fought back as hard as he could, but Bane was twice his size in height and in weight, and Bruce was already in pain from all of his previous injuries that he had left untreated. I didn't know what to do. I just stood there, watching the man I had once loved take punches for me. I had to wonder what he was going to say. It probably wasn't a nice word anyway, considering the tone of his voice when he was saying it.

When Bruce had Bane at bay for a second, he glared at me, "Why haven't you left yet? I told you, you need to get out of here!"

I contemplated it for a split second, and took off running, not even caring where I was going. When I got a couple of blocks away, I ducked next to a diner to catch my breath. I looked at my reflection in the windows of the diner. I looked a total mess; my mascara was running down my face, my hair was in complete disarray and my dress was ripped at the bottom. I had somehow managed to abandon my shoes along the way.

Suddenly, another face appeared behind me. It took me a moment to realize who it was because he never went out in public without his makeup. My heart leapt into my throat, and I turned around swiftly, launching myself into his arms, "Oh, Mr. J, you came back!"

"Yes, I did." He smiled widely, "And just in time, I think."

"What do you mean?" I was puzzled.

"I heard what you said to Bruce back there."

"Everything?" I flushed.

"Everything," he affirmed, "And I have to say, Harley…I've been waiting a long time to hear you say those things. I wish they had been to my face, but maybe you needed to gather up the courage to say it to someone else. Also, I have to say, way to stick it to Wayne. I am very proud."

"Well, I meant all of it." I said, smiling up at him, "I love you."

"I feel no need to say it to you because I've said it enough times. You owe me." He smirked, and he kissed me deeply, "Alright, babe, let's blow this popsicle stand."

"And you call me cliché."

_I set fire to the rain_

_And I threw us into the flames_

_When I felt something die_

'_Cause I knew that there was the last time, the last time…_

THE END


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